


Kindly Calm Me Down - A Captain America Story

by Abixx7



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alcohol, Angst and Feels, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Broadway References, Character(s) of Color, Dogs, F/M, Girls with Guns, Guns, LGBT characters, Military Backstory, Musical References, Nick Fury is Not Amused, Original Character(s), Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Protective Phil Coulson, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Spies & Secret Agents, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 74
Words: 163,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10096139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abixx7/pseuds/Abixx7
Summary: When Regan Hamilton joins SHIELD as their UN ambassador, she doesn't know what to expect. She's been a part of the UN for the last 7 years and has grown accustomed to the world crises, emergency meetings and constant threats as well as the boardroom politics and difficult politicians and foreign delegates. But what she wasn't expecting was the Avengers. Or more specifically, the Avengers' scrutiny of her, her past and everything that she stands for. As she is forced to prove her worth and her name, will Regan be able to find her place among SHIELD and show everyone what she's really made of? And will she be able to let go of her demons and move on with the life that's in front of her and a possible future with a certain Captain?





	1. Prologue

This is a little bit of background and context to the story before you dive straight in:  
\- I'll be updating this story twice a week - every Sunday at 10:30 GMT and every Wednesday at 18:00 GMT  
\- Roughly, this story follows the events of Captain America: Civil War  
\- This story will contain swearing  
\- I don't own Marvel or any of the original Marvel characters. The rest of the characters are my own  
\- For those that are interested, Regan looks like the actress Lyndsy Fonseca  
\- The chapter titles are in various different languages and will alternate between English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Russian, Chinese, Portuguese, Norwegian & Hawaiian for reasons that will soon become clear  
\- You can check out the Spotify playlist that I created for this story which includes songs that Regan or other characters sing, songs that Regan likes and songs that describe her and other characters within the story: [open.spotify.com/user/abicxx/playlist/23tMnChxjFcT73qLByQ5ha](https://open.spotify.com/user/abicxx/playlist/23tMnChxjFcT73qLByQ5ha)  
\- Enjoy :D


	2. Un

Just think head up, shoulders back and eyes front. You're Regan Hamilton. You've got this.

I'd stood in plenty offices in my time. Offices that belonged to ex-presidents, foreign dignitaries and war heroes. But the one that made me tremble, the one that made my knees start shaking and my voice break was the office belonging to Director Nicholas J Fury.

I mean, the guy was a living legend.

And could totally rock the eye-patch look. 

'I'm sorry for the delay, Agent Hamilton. It seems that they are taking their time.'

What? Oh, yes. Fury was introducing me to the Avengers. Well, If I could manage to shake his hand without vomiting I was sure I could cope with Tony Stark.

Fury's office was clean and spacious, with an entire wall constructed of glass that looked out over the entire compound. There was a large white table positioned in the middle of the room, with ten chairs around it, which I was currently stood at the head of while Fury paced around the room, his hand to his ear.

'Stark! Get your ass over here now! I have more important things to be doing than waiting for you!' His sharp voice radiated through the room and nearly knocked me off balance.

Come on, Rae. Get a grip.

I was still in disbelief that I was even here, no longer sat at my desk in the official UN headquarters in New York but instead stood in Director Fury's office, days after being transferred as their official UN Ambassador. Director Ross had met with me personally - he was a very difficult man to get hold of - and explained what my role would be within SHIELD and even now, as I straightened the name badge that was pinned to my lapel, the truth was only just beginning to sink in.

A gaggle of chatter suddenly broke the steely silence of the room and I easily picked out the voices of Tony Stark and Clint Barton, who appeared to be arguing over something. As soon as they entered through the glass doors, followed by Natasha Romanoff, Captain Steve Rogers, Vision, Wanda Maximoff and Sam Wilson who were all wearing civilian clothing, I straightened my posture, trying to add a couple of inches to my 5 foot 2 stature. Even in heels, many of the agents I'd seen towered over me.

'About time, folks. I hate to think how long you'd take to respond to a non-urgent meeting.'

'Don't stress, boss. We've always got your best interests at heart.' quipped Stark, popping a fresh square of gum into his mouth. 'Who's this?'

Everyone's eyes suddenly shot to me and I didn't know whether to smile or say hello or reel off my entire list of credentials. So I stayed put, a small, polite smile gracing my face.

I hoped they didn't think I was a grimace.

I could feel everyone's eyes silently judging my simple black pencil dress and taupe blazer as I re-clasped my hands behind my back. Or maybe that was just my inner paranoia?

'This is Agent Regan Hamilton who, as of today, is our newest member of SHIELD. Agent Hamilton has joined us from the UN where she was worked for the last 5 years, doing an exemplary job. And that means, no funny business. That's going to you in particular, Stark.'

Stark held his hands up in surrender. 'I promise no funny business. There will be no funny business with the new agent who is surprisingly small for an adult female.' My eyes narrowed at this comment. He might have been the head of a multimillion dollar business and also be Iron Man but that didn't mean I couldn't knock him down a peg or two.

'Alright, alright. I got it. But what does classify as funny business, exactly?' He mused, leaning back in his chair in order to kick his feet up onto the table.

'Why don't you ask her?' I said, causing Stark's eyes to narrow. Out the corner of my eye, I could see Sam smirking at me but he was trying to keep it hidden from view.

'Alright, sweetheart - '

'Agent.' I cut him off before he could go any further. I wasn't there to be condescendingly referred to as 'sweetheart.' 'My name is Agent Hamilton.'

Stark raised his eyebrows and continued. 'Fair enough. Agent Hamilton. You're from the UN?' I nodded.

'Stark - ' Fury tried to interrupt with Stark ignored him.

'What side are you on in relation to the shit show that were the Sokovia Accords?' I knew that this question was going to be inevitable and I really didn't want to start a riot between my new collogues on my very first day.

'My opinion on the Sokovia Accords has nothing to do with my position here at SHIELD.' I said diplomatically.

'Are you a spy, then? Have you come to see how badly the Avengers are falling apart? Or to bribe us into another scheme?'

'Stark, I suggest you leave it.' Fury said, his voice low. I gathered that Stark wasn't used to simply leaving things. Especially concerning things as divisive and controversial as the Sokovia Accords.

'Were you involved? Were you in the room when Ross and the Secretary of State were coming to their 'compromise'?' I could detect the venom in his voice.

The Sokovia Accords had taken things from everyone, those who had been for and against them. Everyone in the room was now hanging onto my words. Everyone in the room had something to say on the pieces of paper my organization had put together that had completely destroyed aspects of their lives. And whichever side I sat on, I was going to find myself facing conflict and making enemies. And that wasn't something I wanted.

'No.' I said sharply, trying to sound as confident as I possibly could. 'I could have been in Vienna but I was actually in Jordan, visiting the Zaatari refugee camp. We were administering humanitarian aid.'

This was a lie. I had in fact been at the conference in Vienna. I'd been stood silently in the corner, watching the events unfold and knowing that there would be consequences to the pieces of paper that were being signed.

I had been at the Zaatari refugee camp only a few days before the conference but I was hoping that no one would question me on this or remember my presence at the conference. The nerves gnawed in my stomach. But I didn't need to create enemies on my first day on the job.

'How noble of you.' Stark murmured, the hostility still clear in his voice.

'Agent Hamilton is going to be fulfilling the role of our UN Ambassador which will involve her organizing conversations between the UN and SHIELD as well as making sure that both our goals lie on the same path: to bring around world peace and world stability.' Fury explained 

'Agent Hamilton shall also be spending some time within the HR department which she also has some experience in. As well as this, SHIELD shall be using her personal contacts with various political figures and embassies here in New York in order to further our own missionary status.'

'What contacts?' Romanoff suddenly asked, her sharp eyes scanning my face.

'Anyone who is important within the US government I probably have on speed dial. Or, I know someone who does. I can also speak to all the embassies that are currently here in New York.' I clarified.

'And following recent events, I thought it was important to have a figure who could smooth out the relations between SHIELD and the UN. And I'm sure that Agent Hamilton is going to be an important asset to this organization and will help us to achieve even more. She may also be recommending that SHIELD go to certain areas which she deems to be important.' Fury nodded at me and gave me a look which I interpreted as my turn to speak.

'I've actually been working closely with SHIELD for around a year now, particularly on missions which involve you leaving US soil. So I'm well versed in how you operate.'

'How've you been helping?' Stark questioned and I swallowed. I was in desperate need of a drink but whether that was because of how much I was talking or because of my nerves I didn't know.

'The reason that no one has laid a hand on you and tried to limit your activity before now is because they couldn't. Whenever you went on a mission outside of the US, you were more diplomatically secure with more relevant paperwork than the Pope.' I said proudly. It hadn't been an easy task keeping some of the most 'dangerous' people on the planet out of remote, foreign prisons but I'd managed to do it.

'So the whole thing is your fault?'

'Excuse me?' I blinked, trying to soak up Stark's words.

'This whole fiasco was your fault.'

'It was no one's fault. No one made a mistake or is to blame.' I said firmly, thinking of my next words carefully. 'The authorities dealt with what happened to the best of their ability.' I said, not trying to incriminate anyone.

'Agent Hamilton is currently a Level 6 agent.' Fury continued, his eyes fixed on Stark. He didn't look particularly happy. 'But she will be undergoing new agent training in order to become a Level 7 agent. She will be put into training with the next batch of new recruits.' Barton, Romanoff and Captain Rogers all nodded at this.

It looked like they were my new school teachers.

'Can you shoot a gun?' Romanoff asked me and I nodded.

'What about fighting? Hand to hand combat?' Barton asked.

'Relatively.' I said. 'I've thankfully not had many opportunities to practice that skill.'

'Can you get by in another country?'

'Yes.'

'Which countries?' Romanoff pressed and I had to hold back a smile. This was one area that I knew I could excel in.

'Hello. Bonjour. Hola. Ciao. Hallo. Здравствуйте. 你好. Olá. Hallo. Aloha.' I said, a smirk meeting my lips. I was met with silence. Everyone in the room, with the exception of Fury and Sam, were staring at me with slightly awed expressions.

'So that's any country that speaks English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Russian, traditional Chinese, Portuguese...' Romanoff trailed off, counting the languages out on her fingers.

'Norwegian and Hawaiian.' I finished for her.

'Who speaks Hawaiian?' cried Stark.

'I speak it if it's in a pizza.' Sam murmured and I grinned, before quickly hiding it.

'Me.' I answered. 'And people who live in Hawaii.'

'Are there any more questions for Agent Hamilton or can we all get on with our day?' Fury asked, his eyes skirting around the room.

'Yes. What would you do if - ' Stark started.

'Any questions that I will actually answer.' I finished for him and I swore I heard Sam repress a chuckle.

'I think that will be all, Agent Hamilton. Thank you for your time this morning.' Fury said and I nodded.

Stark was looking at me as though I was a particularly annoying insect and I instantly knew that we were going to clash. I approached him with my hand outstretched for him to shake and surprisingly he took it, giving my hand a firm shake.

I circumnavigated the table shaking everyone's hand and told everyone that it was 'nice to meet them.' Captain Rogers was definitely the most friendly. Or rather he wasn't the most friendly but he was the least dismissive. Until, at least, I got to Sam.

Instead of holding his hand out for me to shake he offered me his knuckles, a sly smirk on his face. I paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow, and looking round at the rest of the room.

'Really?' I said, gesturing down to his fist that was still awaiting mine to bump against it. He shrugged, his smirk growing even bigger and I rolled my eyes. Reluctantly, I bumped my own fist against his and started smirking myself.

'Wait a minute, wait a minute. Do you two know each other? Is he your secret boyfriend or something?' Barton asked and I had to repress a snort. Sam Wilson was definitely not my boyfriend.

'Yes, I know him. But no, he isn't my boyfriend. I'm in a relationship and it's certainly not with Sam.' Sam pulled a face as though he felt insulted and I rolled my eyes again.

'Who's the unlucky man then?' Stark muttered under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

'Why'd you assume my partner is a man?' I questioned, folding my arms and giving him a stern look.

'You're a lesbian?'

'No. I'm bi.' I said, taking a note of Stark's slightly surprised face, Sam's smug face and the other blank faces in the room. 'Thank you, Director. I'll be going to my office now.'

I walked straight out of the office, my heels clicking against the floor, and let out a sharp breath. SHIELD better hold onto its hat because there was definitely a storm coming.

\- Thanks for reading this first chapter, guys! What do you think so far?


	3. Dos

I managed to survive my first morning as an agent of SHIELD without much stress. It had mainly involved going around to the various departments within SHIELD and introducing myself, explaining that if they had any issues they could come to me as I was a part of the HR department.

Everyone seemed friendly. Or at least, as friendly as they needed to be without appearing rude.

Still, the morning passed without incident. There were no national emergencies and I didn't meet any of the arrogant assholes that I was sure were floating around. An organization like SHIELD seemed like the perfect breeding ground for the cocky, patronizing, alpha male types that I knew I would not get on with.

Other than Tony Stark, of course. And thankfully I hadn't had to interact with him for the rest of the morning.

At 12:30pm exactly I shut down my emails and started to make my way over to the canteen, using the map that Hill had given me downloaded on my phone.

Agent Hill was basically my supervisor, while officially Fury was boss, and she was the one who'd given me a quick whistle-stop tour of the compound, the key to my office and the key to my SHIELD regulation locker. She'd seemed nice but definitely wasn't a pushover which I guessed was a requirement if you wanted to work in a place like SHIELD. It certainly was at the UN.

After some milling around and pacing up and down the same corridor three times, I finally found my way to the canteen - a large, airy hall that smelled of grease and burger fat. There must have been around one hundred and fifty circular tables dotted around with seven chairs positioned around each. In the back corner of the room I could see Wanda, Stark , Barton, Romanoff and Captain Rogers all chatting around a table, with Stark playfully throwing a fry in Barton's direction.

I patiently waited in line for my food and despite the overwhelming sickly smell, there was a whole variety of different food options and surprisingly not all of them came with chips. I opted for the lasagna, taking an apple and flapjack to complete my meal. I was pleased to see that there was also some vegetarian, vegan, dairy-free and nut-free options as well and couldn't really find anything to report as an improvement, other than the smell.

Just as I was collecting my cutlery and was considering whether I should eat my food back in my office, I heard a voice call out my name. Looking up, I scanned the tables in front of me. No one was looking at me or calling out my name. Maybe I'd just misheard.

'Rae! Over here!' I latched onto the voice and almost let out a squeal of excitement. In my own nervousness I'd completely forgotten that Trish started her agent training today as well, meaning that we'd be in the same training program and that I had at least one friend and ally within SHIELD that wasn't my boss.

I hurriedly weaved my way through the tables and sat down next to Trish at her free table, embracing her in my arms. Her frizzy black hair was tied up in a ponytail and she was dressed in comfy, yet practical clothing: black jeans, a black tee and a khaki green jacket. Trish had been my best friend since I'd first met her in college almost ten years ago and we'd remained inseparable ever since.

'I can't believe you're here!' I exclaimed, almost dizzy with excitement.

'Neither can I, it's crazy.'

'You're officially a trainee SHIELD agent.' I smiled, gesturing to her badge that was clipped to her lapel that read: P Manning, Trainee Agent.

'I know. Well, I couldn't stay a dog walker forever. My training starts first thing tomorrow.' She said, beginning to dig into her curry. I furrowed my brows as I drank a gulp of my water.

'No idea when mine starts. I wasn't given that information. I just know I have to fill out this.'

Hill had also handed me a form that she wanted me to fill in which would show which training classes I wanted to participate in which I pulled out of my bag and smoothed onto the table. Some classes were mandatory but some were optional; you could take as many or as few classes as you wanted, as long as you passed the entry exam that would be held in about a months time.

'Who d'you want as your trainer?' Trish asked, as I started on my lasagna. As well as choosing what classes you wanted to take, you could also preference your trainer. Our options were out of Captain Rogers, Barton and Romanoff.

'I wouldn't turn any of them down, to be honest. I'm sure they're all fantastic agents.' I said and Trish gave me a hard look. I instantly knew what she meant but it was slightly awkward to think of them like that, considering they were my new co-workers.

'Come on, who'd you fancy? I'll let you have first choice.' She teased and I rolled my eyes, looking over at their table. 'And where's Thor? I want to be in that sandwich. Captain America and Thor, yes please.'

'Presumably chilling out on Asgard.' I said. 'I don't have him on speed dial.'

'I wish you did.' Trish mumbled and I grinned. 'It must be great on Asgard.' She mused, 'You don't have to pay taxes. I mean, imagine that. I'd have a grand old time.'

'I'll see if I can get in contact with him.' I said sarcastically and Trish smiled.

'Please do.'

The level of noise in the hall seemed to remain at a constant rate, regardless of the agents that entered and left the room. But despite the noise levels, I still managed to pick out Stark's voice above the rest.

'I've already started thinking of nicknames for them.' Trish said, after a moment. 'You know, code names. Because I'm nearly a super spy and everything.'

'What've you got so far?' I asked, somewhat hesitantly.

'Cap's the easiest one. I don't know why, he just is. Mr. 'Merica. America's Sweetheart. Hot Grandpa. Sexy Fossil.' I snorted at this last one.

'I'm a mature, professional, functioning adult human who works for the government and calls one of America's biggest national heroes a sexy fossil?' I said and Trish just shrugged, grinning.

'He'll never know that it's him!' I rolled my eyes and smirked, looking over at the man who had just been christened a 'sexy fossil'.

I mean, it wasn't a lie, was it?

'Have you done anything interesting yet?' I asked Trish, finishing up my lasagna which had been surprisingly good and moving onto my apple. Trish shook her head.

'Just a bunch of introductory meetings. It was basically reams and reams of what not to do in front of the Avengers. Asking for autographs isn't advised, apparently.'

'Shame...Joanie would love that as a birthday present.' I murmured, thinking of Joanie who was basically my adopted, younger sister who had a massive crush on Black Widow.

'How was your morning?' Trish enquired and I shrugged.

'Stark pretty much hates me. And the rest of them were just being polite. You could feel the hostility.'

'Can Cap even be hostile? Doesn't he have to be like, the ideal citizen and nice to everyone all of the time?' Trish asked. 'You could sue.'

'Sue who?' I asked with a smile, turning my focus to my training form. I inputted my basic information that I felt I'd re-written about five billion times in the last two months and began looking down the list of training classes.

And boy, were there a lot.

'Should I take Japanese martial arts?' I asked, seeing that there were in fact eight different types of martial arts you could take classes in.

'If you want.' Before Trish had started her own dog walking business, she'd taught various forms of martial arts at her local gym so I knew that she wouldn't be ticking any of those boxes. 'At least you don't need to take any shooting classes.'

I'd never really understood why the United Nations - a peace-keeping organization - frequently enrolled the majority of its members in gun control lessons. Nevertheless, I now had the transferable skill of being able to shoot pretty well which meant I could turn my attentions to other areas of SHIELD's curriculum.

'How about Thai boxing?' I pressed, ticking all of the classes that were mandatory.

Urgh. Stamina building. That didn't sound fun.

'Then you can beat up all the pricks who aren't nice to you.'

'I think I'm violent enough, thanks.' I said with a smile.

I had known that coming from the UN to SHIELD was a risky move. Tensions were strained as it was between the two organizations after the Sokovia Accords so putting a UN member relatively close to the top of the SHIELD food chain was never going to go well. But I'd still taken the plunge and I was now here which meant I'd just have to deal with the situations when they arose.

It also didn't help that along with some charitable donors and other organizations, the UN funded a large amount of SHIELD's activity.

'I'll be fine.' I promised Trish. 'Most people have problems with the powers that be, rather than insignificant agents.'

'You mean Ross.' Trish said bluntly and I nodded.

'Anyway, I've got an ally in you. Sam seems like he's on my side. And Fury and Hill treat me at least civilly.' I said, looking back down at my training form and placing a tick next to Basic Gun Handling. It would do me good to check I could still remember the basics.

It also didn't fill me with joy that I was going to have to fit my training schedule around my work as the UN Ambassador and my role in the HR department.

Hopefully, there wouldn't be another financial crisis or any bombs dropped in any major cities. I needed things to be quiet for the next month or so if I stood any chance of passing the exam in a months time.

'Do you think they'll ease us in gently?' Trish asked as I moved onto my flapjack. 'I mean, some of the trainee's might never have done anything so physical before.'

The optimistic side of my brain prayed that they would but the realistic side knew that this probably wouldn't be the case.

'I don't know. I suppose I'm not here to be brought in gently, am I?' I muttered. Trish smiled kindly at me, squeezing my shoulder comfortingly.

I knew that people were going to have problems with me from right off the bat, because of my history within the UN. I was going to have to prove to everybody, no matter their status, that I wasn't a back-stabbing double crosser but was actually just trying to help people.

But that would be by no means an easy task.

\- I hope you enjoyed this! What did you think?


	4. Tre

After parting ways with Trish - she had another introductory meeting to get to - I made my way back to my office and surprisingly, only got lost once.

My office was tucked away from the rest of the HR rooms in a basically deserted corner of a corridor. This meant that I could work in peace and would be never disturbed by any explosions from weapons testing or grunts and groans from training agents. However, it did mean that if I wanted to talk to an agent in person rather than just sending an email, I had to walk a substantial distance to find them.

The room which I'd been given was surprisingly large yet narrow, with one wall - including the door - being completely constructed of glass. There was a large filing cabinet as well as various bookshelves and shelving units, with a desk, computer and every other essential piece of office equipment. It was all clean and sleek with the latest technology - but it didn't feel like my office.

I had tried my hardest, with the limited resources I had at hand, to make it feel like my own. I'd re-arranged the various files on agents, past missions and the diagnostics on the SHIELD base how I wanted them on the shelves.

I'd also brought a few photographs with me from my old desk at the UN HQ - I had one of myself, my brother and my sister, another one of myself and my parents a few years ago, one taken with myself, Trish and our 4 other close friends and other one with myself and my three dogs. I'd arranged these on my desk, facing the computer so I could look at them at all times, but the atmosphere in my office still felt stale and unwelcoming.

On the back wall of my office there was also a large whiteboard which hinted at the fact this room hadn't actually been re-decorated for quite a while. After an hour of staring at its glossy white surface, I'd finally cracked and found a marker pen.

On one side of the board I'd written all of my short-term targets and things that I needed to do: sort out my emails, find out when my training started, contact every embassy in New York and introduce myself as SHIELD's new UN Ambassador and Embassy Ambassador.

On the other side of the board I'd written all of my long-term targets and these tended to be much more broad: stop world hunger, secure world peace and to generally make society fairer.

I was nothing if not ambitious.

Firstly, I quickly completed the remainder of my training form that I had yet to fill out and added to my whiteboard that I needed to find Hill and give it to her by the end of the day. It was rather ironic that HR was supposed to be involved in the recruitment and training of new agents and here I was being the trainee.

Secondly, I began to clear out my emails, deleting the ones that didn't contain any important information and creating some folders so that I could organize everything better.

I saw that I also had an email from Fury explaining that members of the Brazilian Embassy would be visiting SHIELD on Friday, which was in 4 days time. I had been selected to show a group of the members around the facility and answer any of their questions.

Seeing I had only set foot in the place for the first time today, I really needed to do my homework.

Fury was hoping to re-build some of the feelings between SHIELD and Brazil after a recent mission which, judging from his tone, hadn't gone particularly well. I had yet to find the mission file but I added this to my to-do list so that I could better understand the whole situation.

Apparently the day was going to be loud and extravagant because that was what they liked and would be the best way to try and win their favour. Maybe it was just that in my years as an UN officer I'd grown to be seriously paranoid, but I always wondered that if all of the ceremony and fanfare was just to hide something else.

I was slowly beginning to familiarize myself with the base and all of the various departments and I was fairly certain that I'd at least said hello to everyone who was remotely important in the running of SHIELD. And so far, everyone had seemed...nice. Which I hadn't been expecting.

It wasn't just that I knew my UN heritage would build me some enemies but also that an organization as high-stress and high-risk as SHIELD would surely have its problems and its loose cannons.

It wasn't that I didn't trust the people in charge, because I did. I had in faith in Fury and Hill and even the Avengers because I knew of every alien attack that they'd helped to stop because I'd been involved in some way.

This, arguably, could or couldn't be said for the UN. In my opinion, the higher-ups had an awful lot on their plates for one individual to tackle alone and it was easy to see why sometimes rash and illogical choices would be made. 

In my first 5 hours at SHIELD, I hadn't found any gaping holes in its systems or in the way it was run which is what I suppose some members of the UN wanted me to find. It worked both ways. Some members of the UN didn't like SHIELD and some members of SHLED didn't like the UN.

Which was ridiculous really, seeing as were supposed to be working for the same end goals. But that was politics, for you. It makes people lose sight of what they were doing things for in the first place.

But so far, I was actually quite impressed with SHIELD. They had the basics: the heating worked, there were plenty toilets and even showers, there were ample supplies of food and water and everyone seemed to be fairly happy.

But even after spending 5 hours in the place I knew that it wasn't going to perfect. There were obviously going to be some darker sides of a large organization such as SHIELD and I knew that the racism and sexism and every other kind of discrimination would be present somewhere.

SHIELD had a 40% to 60% female to male workforce so it was obvious that this was, and would cause, some problems. SHIELD would attract the arrogant, conceited, proud alpha types like moths to a flame and it were these people that would probably be responsible for the majority of the social problems.

There was actually quite a large ethnic diversity between the agents which was encouraging but I knew that if I looked hard enough then the problems would start to jump out at me.

I'd completed a basic check of the building and had also briefly written out all of SHIELD's resources which was one of the things my bosses back at the UN had asked me to do. I had emailed one off to the UN and one off to Hill and, after crossing this off my list, decided to go and track down Hill and hand in my training form.

The entire corridor was deserted as I started to make my way towards the upper floors where I knew Hill spent most of her time. The silence and stillness was unnerving. The only noise was the clatter of my heels against the polished floor and the ticking of the clocks on the walls.

I soon found myself back in the belly of SHIELD, agents milling all around me and corridors leading in every direction. Taking one look at the cramped elevators leading to the upper floors, I decided to take the stairs rather than spend the rest of the day waiting.

It seemed that the majority of agents spent their days in the central levels of SHIELD as I soon as I breached the fifth floor there was relative silence again. I peered into every window that I passed, hoping to spot a glimpse of Hill, when I was halted by a collection of voices that were talking around the corner.

I paused for a moment, trying to decipher the voices. It wasn't difficult. It was clearly Stark, talking to someone who I identified as Captain Rogers and another voice through a process of elimination I realised was Vision.

'I wonder if Miss Perfect has got herself locked in any storage cupboards yet?' snorted Stark and I realised that me and Trish weren't the only ones who could construct nicknames. I'd been given the accolade of Miss Perfect.

It wasn't a compliment.

'I am sure Agent Hamilton would be able to find a means of escape.' Vison said, as I creeped closer to the end of the corridor. So at least Vision seemed to have some faith in my abilities.

'I highly doubt that she'd get herself into that position in the first place. She seems like a good agent. Fury definitely trusts her.' That was Captain Rogers. It seemed I had another fan.

'Has she worked her charms on the Captain already? You sound like you're in love with her. When's the wedding? I want an invite.' Stark said sarcastically and I practically see Captain Rogers rolling his eyes.

I decided that this was a good a time as any to emerge before any rumours started being thrown around about me and Captain Rogers and any sort of wedding. I didn't want to make even more enemies by stealing America's most eligible bachelor way from them.

'And speak of the devil, here's the woman of the moment!' Stark exclaimed and restrained myself from rolling my eyes. 'You still here?'

'It will take more than Tony Stark to scare me away.' I said flatly, my eyes scanning their faces. Stark looked smug, Vision looked emotionless and Cap looked slightly amused. 'And you'll be pleased to know that you have no glaring human rights breaches.'

'I bet you're distraught, aren't you?' Stark said and I narrowed my eyes. 'Come on, its common knowledge that the UN hates SHIELD.'

I brushed past them and remained silent. No, some UN members didn't like SHIELD but he couldn't just label the entire organization as SHIELD haters. But considering that I now had to work on both sides - both for the UN and for SHIELD - I didn't quite know how to respond. Weren't there any guidelines for this kind of thing?

So I decided to move the conversation along.

'Go back to your tinkering, Stark. Some of us have work to be doing.' I heard Stark mutter something under his breath and Captain Rogers responded but I didn't hear what.

Yes, Stark could go back to his tinkering. And I could go back to walking around on eggshells around every single corridor and trying to prove that I wasn't trying to kill them all in their sleep.

\- What did you think? I hope you liked it!


	5. Vier

After finally managing to track down Hill and give her my training form, I spent the rest remainder of my first day of SHIELD trying - and most of the time failing - to speak to all of embassies that were in New York and having very frustrated conversations with receptionists who refused to put me through to the appropriate people. So, after several hours of what felt like banging my head against a brick wall I was actually quite relieved to be going home.

I hadn't seen Trish for the remainder of the day but she had sent me a text just as I'd finished a rather informal conversation with the Italian Ambassador, explaining that she was bringing some kind of milky alcoholic drink that she'd found at a market somewhere and wanted everyone to try it.

Because our close circle of friends lived very different lives and worked very different jobs, it was often hard to pencil in a date months in advance that everyone knew they'd be able to make. So we took the opposite approach - which at times filled me with dread as I always had to have a schedule - which was to simply text everyone else on a day that you were free and hoped that everyone else was too.

Tonight was one of those rare occurrences where everyone actually was free tonight so at 7pm everyone was coming around to my house and we would do what we always did - drink cocktails, sing show tunes and rant about life. That was my normality.

I left the SHIELD compound just after 6pm and while I mostly worked normal 9 to 5 shifts it was clear to see that not everyone else did. Some agents were merely arriving as I was crossing the parking lot to my car and I knew that many other agents worked 12 hour shifts as well as overnight. So SHIELD was always active, no matter the hour.

The drive from SHIELD HQ to my home in Brooklyn should have been a relatively short one but with the roads clogged up by the rush hour traffic, it took me almost 45 minutes to get home. Still, my friends were hardly renowned for being on time so I knew there was no rush.

My home was tucked away from the busy Brooklyn streets and was a large, detached property that was over 100 years old. My Godmother - one of my mother's oldest friends - had left the house to me in her will when she'd died 8 years ago and I intended to keep hold of the house for as many years as I possibly could because I adored it.

I knew that even with my increased SHIELD salary I would have had to have seriously saved and lived a very frugal life to have even thought about buying the house so to actually be living in it was still novelty.

Even after 8 years I'd often pause, looking out over the landscape of trees and grass that surrounded me - my garden backed onto an old bridal path - and remind myself that the house was actually mine.

And it's safe to say that it was still a sore point with my siblings that I lived in an almost mansion whereas they lived in small and noisy apartments in Brooklyn Heights and Harlem.

Driving up to the front of my house and parking the car, I hopped out, grabbing my bag and locking the door. Even though it was early October the weather was still surprisingly warm and I'd yet to bring out my winter coats from the beginning of the year which I couldn't remember ever doing before in my whole 27 years of living.

As I fumbled with the key in the somewhat rusty lock, I could immediately hear the barking of three dogs on the other side of the door. Because as well as my obsession with heels - it started as a method to make me taller and turned into a full blown addiction - I was also obsessed with dogs.

At the moment, my menagerie stood at three. A 6 year old Nova Scotia Ducktoller Retriever called Stella, a 4 year old Welsh Corgi called Digger and - my newest family member - was a 1 year old Bolognese puppy called Muffin.

And they were literally like my children. If it was socially acceptable to walk around with them in a pram then I probably would have.

I cautiously pushed the door open because, as I had predicted, all staring at me as I entered and barking their heads off were the three fluffy members of my household. As soon as they saw my face they obviously got bored as they immediately shut up and padded off into the kitchen.

Charming.

'Hey guys! How have we all been?' I asked, swapping my heels for a pair of slippers and following them into the kitchen, using the voice that I only reserved for my dogs. Obviously, they didn't reply. But that wasn't the point.

I looked up at the clock. 6:50. The crew would be arriving any minute. Time to prep. And prep meant dig out the takeaway menus.

'Now then. Shall we tidy up a bit?'  
   
***  
   
The time had long since passed 11pm and we'd all finally agreed to call it a night. We could have kept going until the yearly hours of the morning - belting out show tunes and drinking bottle after bottle of Trish's peculiar milky alcohol that was actually quite nice - but we did all have jobs to get back to.  
   
Bertrand and Remi had an entire script and 8 songs worth to learn for next Tuesday when they were auditioning for a musical that could potentially kick-start their careers into the big leagues. So, understandably, they wanted to start learning the material as soon as possible. 

They were basically doing the 'job' that I would have been doing if I could stomach my nerves in any kind of audition situation and had the bravado that was needed for Shakespeare.

CariDee had a shit ton of camera lenses to clean and tripods to pack because she had a photoshoot tomorrow for a really small indie magazine that wanted to try every single kind of camera lens that was available to mankind.

Britt had to go because Bertrand had to go and seeing that they lived in the same apartment, it made sense. And she kept making hints about her and Bertrand having 'plans' and we all knew what that meant.

Trish wanted to get a good nights sleep for her first day of training tomorrow and didn't want to kill off all the other trainee agents because of her zombie appearance.

Therefore all of this left me standing on my front porch, the dogs barking behind me, as I watched my friends clamber into their cars.

'Just get a room guys, get a room!' Remi shouted from his battered green rust-bucket that probably didn't deserve to actually be called a car, as Bertrand kissed Britt on the cheek and whispered something in her ear.

'We have a room, it's called our apartment.' Britt called back with a smirk, brushing some of her curly auburn hair from her eyes. 'And that's where we're headed.'

'So we're meeting up again at the weekend, right?' Trish asked and I nodded, taking a step back into my hallway. It hadn't been cold before but it certainly was now and the chill was beginning to seep through the fabric of my shirt.

'Until then then, gang.' Bertrand said smiling, opening the door of the car for Britt and waving at me. I waved back, shooting all of my friends a last smile before shutting the door and consequently shutting out the cold.

I bolted the latch on the door and, after double checking that the door was now locked, padded back into the kitchen with the dogs trotting after me.

The kitchen was undoubtedly the biggest room in the entire house which was why whenever the gang came over we always congregated there. Originally the room had only been half the size but ever since the extension had been installed it made a perfect entertaining space with the large dining table, stone floors, wood-burning fireplace and large windows which looked out into the trees beyond.

And, of course, the piano which was the focal point of all our gatherings.

Scattered across the table and the top of the piano were various half empty wine-glasses, filled with the milky white substance that Trish had brought. Whenever we met up, someone always brought the alcohol and it worked on a rota which meant that at the weekend it was my turn to procure the booze.

It was ridiculous really, how messy and disorganized my kitchen could grow when all we really did was sit or stand in the same position for hours on end and sing and do enthusiastic shoulder rolls to the rhythm.

I poured the drink that remained in the glasses down the drain and stocked up the washing machine with the glasses and the pots, pans and plates that I used to cook my dinner - a simple pasta dish.

Trish had left a half empty bottle behind, seeing that she'd bought three and even we couldn't get through that much in the space of 4 hours. So after pouring myself a glass and closing the lid on the piano, I made my way into the living room - a cosy, moderately small room filled with cushions and throws.

I felt like I had earned my alcohol today, even if I hadn't exactly secured world peace or saved the planet. I had, however, started a new job at SHIELD which was a pretty big deal in my book and I deserved a small reward.

The first day of starting a new job was never incident free, I had obviously expected that, but then it wasn't at every job where you had to try and convince everyone that you didn't hate their guts and were secretly trying to take over their entire organization. Which is the task I felt like I had to overcome if I could ever be taken seriously at SHIELD.

This was why I felt so overjoyed that Trish had decided to have a drastic career overhaul at the same time that I joined SHIELD. She'd never had an easy time finding work - even after getting her degree in Physical Therapy - and I'd known for a long time that she wanted to have more purpose in her life than simply walking dogs. And now, she could get that.

I snuggled down onto the sofa, resting my head on the cushion and throwing a fluffy grey blanket over me. Stella jumped up onto the couch too and nestled against my feet and I leaned over to scratch the spot behind her ears that I knew she liked. Stella was the most sociable of the three: Digger was always wandering around doing his own thing and Muffin had her preferred spot in front of the fire.

Flicking through the films, I stopped at the appearance of one of my favorite films of all time - A Chorus Line. Just because I hadn't quite reached the dream that I once had - to become a professional singer, dancer and actress and travel the world - didn't mean my love of musical theatre and dance school had been erased from my personality. In fact, I think I loved it all the more.

However instead of watching it for the billionth time and singing every single song at the top of my lungs like I always did, I decided to watch Moana which was a film I had recently become obsessed with. It was partly because of the amazing songs that the films included but was also because of my own Hawaiian heritage and because it was also a very pretty film.

As the film started, Stella suddenly shifted and moved into my lap and Muffin, with much effort because of her small size, nestled herself next to my feet.

'Aww, hey guys - ' I said, running my hand's through Stella's fur. 'Were we feeling lonely? Hmmm?'

Stella let out a low growl which I knew was the sound she made when she was happy. And that, in turn, made me happy too.

'What've you done today, then?' I asked. 'Did you guys have fun? Did you play any games while I was out? I bet you did, didn't you - ' I tore my attention away from the film for a moment, quietly singing the song to myself.

'And what about Digger? Did he scare any poor birds half to death? Hmm?' Digger looked like a small dog but he was extremely territorial which meant that anything that came remotely close to his patch got barked at. And that included birds.

Muffin was staring at me, her dark eyes unblinking as she tucked herself next to my feet.

'And what about me? What did I get up to? Well, I'm sure that Stark thinks that I'm the worst that humanity has to offer or something.' I said with a roll of my eyes. 'But he can get lost, can't he, because I've better things to worry about than him.'

Like my training that was due to begin any day from now. I had yet to be informed exactly what day I was going to be joining Trish's class and I presumed that I was being given a couple of days to settle into my work.

I knew how to shoot, at least that was one thing. But I hadn't picked up a gun in quite a while and I was beginning to panic that I would have completely forgotten what to do. I knew that I was actually quite physically strong from my gymnastic and dancing days but I had absolutely no idea how to use any other kind of weapon and as for hand to hand combat, I usually just kicked and hoped for the best.

And I didn't think that was what SHIELD for looking for.

I was also sure that my SHIELD training was sure to involve a lot of big, burly men who could dead lift 100kg weights as though they were feathers. And they were certainly sure to put me to shame and show just how unfit I was compared to them.

Still, could they do a side aerial? I was willing to bet no.

But that still didn't mean I was going to be anywhere near as good as they were. Trish could do about 5 different types of martial arts which would be surely more effective against the enemy than a hitch kick.

I was going to try not to let that get me down. I was going to go into my training with everything I had and show everyone just what I was made of and that I was a good agent and what I could really do.

\- What did you think?

FEATURED SONGS:  
Christopher Jackson - Where You Are


	6. пять

The next morning it seemed as though the warm weather had well and truly left - the wind was battering against the windows and there was a weather warning that in the evening the roads could turn icy. This was brilliant as I always walked the dogs in the evening when I got home from work because there was no way I could wake up an hour earlier and now I was going to have to tip-toe around ice patches.

I groggily marched downstairs, rubbing my eyes and feeling slightly fuzzy in the head - an effect of last night no doubt - but I knew that I'd feel better after I had something to eat and a drink of water. The dogs were all resting in their beds that sat on the kitchen floor; I wouldn't mind if they decided to take refuge in my bed but considering that was up two flights of stairs it was a bit of an effort.

I opened the back door, wrapping my fluffy dressing gown even tighter around myself as I felt the chill. grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and proceeded to fill the toaster with two pieces of toast. Flicking the radio on, I began shuffling around the kitchen as I poured myself a glass of water. I had a long history with this song or rather, a long history with a girl called Billie in college that hadn't ended well.

The dogs were beginning to stir as I spread a layer of chocolate spread over my toast, rolling my shoulders to the rhythm and singing the tune under my breath.

'Did we all have a nice sleep?' I asked, seeing that all three dogs were now awake and were now padding towards the open back door. It had become part of out routine for them to have a run around outside first thing in the morning because it meant there were no accidents on the carpets which was particularly important in Muffin's case.

The dreary, drowsy feeling was beginning to lift from my body as I took another gulp of water and watched the dogs run around outside, Digger now furiously chasing a squirrel as though his little heart depended on it.

***  
After I finished my breakfast, I let the dogs back in and poured their respective dog food into their bowls. I then set about getting myself ready for the day - getting dressed into a pair of simple black trousers, a blue striped shirt and a pair of my favourite black heels. I brushed my hair, tucking the front bits behind my ears, and applied some make up to cover the enormous zit that was appearing on my chin.

Just as I was curling my eyelashes, my phone started buzzing. I always kept my phone next to my bed just so I could be reached during an emergency - whether that was a bomb had been dropped on Chicago or that my sister had been rushed to hospital.

I quickly read the text that I'd received from the authorized SHIELD number and rolled my eyes. Really? I looked down at my clothes and rolled my eyes again. Really?

I was starting my SHIELD training first thing this morning and was meeting Romanoff, Barton and Captain Rogers outside the compound.

This meant several things.

Firstly, I was going to have to get changed which required effort. Secondly, I was going to freeze because the weather was not in my favour. And thirdly, being outside meant running. And I detested running.

Mentally cursing every God I could possibly think of, I trudged back towards my closet and yanked at a pair of black yoga pants, a lime green sports bra I'd owned for the better part of 4 years and a oversized black sweater that had seen much better days.

And as I looked out the window, I also reached for a loose purple top to wear underneath. Because I was going to have to layer up.

Wow, thanks for all the notice.  
***  
An hour later, after dumping my purse and another bag filled with my trousers, shirt and heels, I hurried out of the compound and towards where I could see a large clump of people standing - the people who I assumed were also in my training group. They were all similarly dressed in fitness clothing at the front of the group I could see Captain Rogers staring at his watch.

I hurried my steps.

At the back of the group, her hair teased into a tight bun, was Trish who was rolling her shoulders and stretching her back. I shuffled into the back of the group, just as I saw Romanoff and Barton emerge from the compound with clipboards in their hands. Just in time then.

'Hey - ' I muttered, lightly tapping Trish on the shoulder. She looked up at me, a smile blooming on her face.

'Hey. You excited?'

'To make a complete fool out of myself? Not particularly.' Trish rolled her eyes at me.

'You'll be fine. If I'm going to be fine, then you're going to be fine.'

'Not if they make us run!' I didn't know what it was but myself and running just didn't mix. At all.

But then neither did running and Trish. That was one of the reasons we were so close.

'Well if they make us run, then we're both screwed.' She said with a grimace and I turned my attentions back towards the front of the group where Captain Rogers, Romanoff and Barton were all waiting patiently. I quickly scanned my eyes over the group - there was around 25 other trainee agents and all of them were taller than me. Without exception.  
   
'This is the beginning of your SHIELD training. If you're good, then you can get your SHIELD license in a month. If you're not, we'll have you back and you'll do the training again. And again. And again. Until we think you're good enough.' Barton explained, his arms folded.

'Or, if you piss us off, we'll kick you out and make you re-apply in a years time. We don't like attitude. If you think you're better than everyone else than you leave now.' Romanoff said bluntly, her sharp eyes narrowing in on me.

Or was that just me imagining things?

'We're going to start off with improving your basic fitness and your stamina which is one the things that should improve the most over this process. This a crucial skill that you can't afford to be lacking in. If you are, you're at a serious disadvantage when it comes to missions. Because the enemy isn't going to wait for you to catch up.' Captain Rogers explained, his gaze shifting over the crowd.

I knew what stamina meant. Stamina meant running.

'So, come on! We're starting with 5 laps of the field!' Romanoff shouted, clapping her hands and urging the crowd to start moving.

I slowly moved into a jog, my eyes glued to the floor as I remained at the back of the group that was slowly meandering forward. I could see a few agents tearing off around the field, far in front of the rest of the group.

Well, some people were dying to impress.

I managed to trudge around at the back of the group for the first lap, Trish a little in front of me. I knew without even meeting her eyes that she was enjoying this about as much as I was - which was not at all.

'This is stupid.' I heard Trish muttering under her breath as I pushed forward to meet her pace, leaving a couple of agents behind me.

'Tell me about it.' I murmured, taking a deep breath as we passed the halfway mark of the second lap. 'I had to wear a sports bra for this and that's just too much faff.' Trish smirked and I struggled to match her pace as she pushed further forward, starting on the third lap.

'If you want to go faster, don't wait up for me.' I said, tucking some flyaway bits of hair behind my ears. 'I'm not made for this, you know that.'

Trish didn't comment but simply looked over at me with a raised an eyebrow. Running was made a heck of a lot harder when firstly your boobs were pretty large and secondly they would do everything to escape from the confines of the sports bra I'd strapped around them. This had been a struggle whenever I'd do anything remotely physical and Trish knew it.

'Oh, I know. But if I go any faster I'm not going to make it to the end and I'll either collapse in a heap on the floor or puke on my shoes.'

'Fair point.' I breathed, gasping for a breath as I forced my legs to keep moving and my arms to keep pumping. I was drenched in a thin layer of sweat, despite the cold chill that was biting through my clothes and my legs were beginning to tingle with exhaustion.

Just breathe, Regan. Just keep breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

I kept this mantra running through my head as we approached the final lap. Some of the nutcases had already finished the laps and were triumphantly lying on the ground doing some so-called 'stretches'.

Smug bastards.

A couple of the agents were now beginning to pull away from the crowd, surging forward because they knew that the end was in sight.

I shot Trish a look and she nodded, suddenly finding some more energy and surging forwards. Trying to catch up, I started to sprint. Hard.

With my arms pumping and my legs moving as fast as I could manage, I soon caught up with Trish - her long strides counting as two of mine.

We crossed the finish line together, though I was sure if any official camera equipment had been used it would have shown that Trish finished before me.

I jogged off to the side, my legs burning and my lungs gasping for breath. Trish appeared next to me, guzzling water from a plastic bottle and then passed it to me.

'Thanks,' I gasped, taking several large gulps of water and taking a long deep breath, before I passed the bottle back.

I hadn't been last, that was one thing. Fourth from last, but still.

'Well that's something else for them to call me out on.' I said, looking over at where Captain Rogers, Barton and Romanoff were all talking, occasionally looking over at us. 'My non-existent running ability.'

'You've got a couple of minutes to stretch but then we're going again with 6 laps. That was your warm up.' Romanoff announced and I took in my aching legs and my burning lungs and my sweat-covered wind-beaten face and wanted to collapse on the floor.

I grudgingly began stretching out my arms and shaking out my legs, watching Trish do a few lunges. Everyone had broken off into small groups and no one was talking to anyone who wasn't in their group.

'It's actually junior high.' I murmured, stretching out my calf muscles and Trish looked up at me with a smirk on her face.

'They're not secretly recording the whole thing to project it into the canteen, Rae.' Trish joked and I smiled, bending down to stretch out my hamstrings.

'It wouldn't surprise me. And it actually is junior high if you think about it. Director Fury is the hard-assed principal. Tony Stark is the loud-mouthed, arrogant jock. And we're the hot nerds that no one notices until we crush them.'

'And the sexy fossil?' Trish asked, as the man in question began talking through some running technique. I didn't really know what to make of him. I hadn't had something you could call a conversation with him but I heard so many stories about his courage and valor and determinedness that I couldn't doubt all of them, could I?

'I don't know.' I admitted as we set off again on the six lap course, my legs already feeling the strain. 'I guess I'll just have to see.'  
***  
For the next three hours, we continued running. We did six laps and had a break. Then we did seven laps and had a break. Then we did eight laps and had a break. And this continued until we were up to twenty laps and I was mere inches away from collapsing onto the floor and bursting into tears and admitting defeat.

But I didn't.

By the time we got to fifteen laps, we had been split into smaller groups and were staggering our start times so that Captain Rogers, Romanoff and Barton could examine us more clearly and give us specialized advice.

Barton yelled at me that I didn't need to take such long strides in order to match Trish's, which had made her giggle.

Me and Trish had ran side by side for the entire duration of the training session. This was mainly because Trish was the only person I knew and, seeing as we hadn't been allowed any music to keep us distracted, me and Trish had taken to humming or singing songs quietly under our breaths to keep us going.

Yes, we could have used this energy in more productive ways but singing was the only way that I'd managed to keep going.

After completing all twenty laps and having a brief lesson on long-distance running technique, we were given a 10 minute break. I slowly walked back to my office, nursing my tired legs, and chomped down a banana and grabbed my water bottle.

Trish was waiting for me when I re-appeared and had tied her jacket around her waist because she was so sweaty.

'How about, seeing as we're both so bad at running, we go on a run every morning?' She asked and I looked at her as though she'd just admitted she was having quadruplets. 'Come on. We can't run and I really don't want to get kicked out of SHIELD.'

I knew that there was absolutely no chance of her getting kicked out of SHIELD because I wouldn't let that happen and because she was a martial arts genius. But what she was saying as true. We needed the practice. And that meant running.

'Fine.' I said ruefully, as Romanoff began shouting instructions. 'Even if you are going to have to drag me round?'

'Even then.' She said with a smile.  
   
We spent the next hour doing a mixture of grueling circuits - I learned I could not plank - and stretches of short distance running.

I definitely preferred short distance running to long distance, mainly because I could actually sort of do it. I stored a lot of my power in the lower half of my body, from my years of doing dance and gymnastics, and so was much better at running all out. I could kid myself that I was performing a vault, but then had to stop myself from doing a double Arabian at the end of the track.

Short distance running also brought out my naturally competitive nature and I actually managed to win a few races, although I was by no means the fastest agent in the group.

I was also beginning to suss out the rest of my group. There were 11 women and 14 men. There was one woman, whose surname was Harris, who seemed to just run and run and run and would never, ever get tired. One man in particular, whose name I thought was Jeff, was like a cheetah and could run 100m almost in the space of 10 seconds.

And, of course, there were the arrogant jerks I'd known were coming and that Romanoff had been talking about. Whenever they didn't come first in a race, they would blame the terrain or the weather or their sneakers. And when they did, they wouldn't shut up about it for at least an hour.

There were another group of guys who me and Trish and nicknamed hot guy 1, 2 and 3 as we didn't actually know their names. They were tanned and lean and good looking and I'd caught a couple of the girls openly gawking at them.

But then I'd also caught a couple of the girls openly staring at Captain Rogers. And yes, he was insanely attractive and a hundred times better looking in real life than the newspaper gave him credit for. But if the only reason I signed up for SHIELD was to gawk at Rogers, then I would have saved the effort and just stalked him instead.

But the reason that I joined SHIELD and the reason that I joined the UN was because I wasn't to help people. And I wasn't helping anyone by gawking at Captain Roger's abs.

\- Thanks for reading!  
   
FEATURED SONGS:  
The Pierces - Turn On Billie


	7. 六

We spent the remainder of the morning working on our core strength and balance as Romanoff had said that they couldn't hope every mission would be on a nice, flat piece of ground and that we could be jumping out of planes or scaling rooftops.

Me and Trish had shared a look. Neither of us anticipated to be jumping out of any planes any time soon.

After a 4 and a half hour training session we were then released for an hour for lunch. I scoffed down my curry in my office, with Trish slumped in a comfy armchair, nursing her muscles.

By the end of the session, even the toughest guys had looked to be in the need of a good meal and a lie down. And that wasn't even the end of it. We were supposed to meet in one of the indoor training rooms at 1:30 for whatever torture they could concoct next.

And I still had work to do. In between mouthfuls and hurried words to Trish, I was quickly replying to e-mails and correspondents and answering phone calls.

And all the while I just wanted to lie on the floor and sleep. My legs felt like they were made of lead. I hadn't felt this tired since I'd been professionally doing gymnastics which was almost 12 years ago.

The hour passed all too quickly and while complaining pretty much every step of the way, myself and Trish forced ourselves into the training room for 1:30 sharp.

I could think of thousands of other places I'd rather be. And one of them even involved being trapped in a trash can.

Myself and Trish were some of the last agents to arrive, even though the time hadn't yet reached 1:30. It seemed that everyone was eager to impress.

At the front of the room stood Romanoff, Barton and Captain Rogers, all looking rather stern, with a whiteboard positioned between them that read 'COMBAT TRAINING.'

Oh, fuck.

I was screwed.

Captain Rogers began introducing the class and talking through a few basic maneuvers but I was only half listening, looking around at other agents in the room.

I was by far the smallest in the room.

Oh, this was going to go brilliantly.

I would have continued listing the ways in which I was going to get completely and utterly annihilated if Trish had suddenly grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me to a far corner of the room as all the other agents paired up and divided too.

'What're we doing?' I muttered absent-mindedly, watching everyone else out of the corner of my eye.

'Practicing that maneuver.'

'Which maneuver?'

'This one.' Trish suddenly grabbed my wrists and twisted them, locking my arms behind my back and sending an uncomfortable twinge across my shoulder blades.

'Oh right. That one.' I said sarcastically. Trish released me and I turned around to face her.

'Go on, then. Your turn.'  
***  
   
The next two hours were spent morphing our bodies into uncomfortable and foreign positions or rather having our bodies forced into them.

Trish managed to pick everything every maneuver in a matter of seconds, which wasn't surprising considering her martial arts background. And it wasn't that I had difficulty as such, just that my fighting style was mainly kick for the crotch and hope for the best.

Trish was also spouting facts about which muscles they were controlling and utilizing as we performed each maneuver, saying it was a re-cap for her degree which had been in Physical Therapy.

Then again, Trish had also minored in Asian American studies - which was obviously not a random thing to pick.

Just like this morning when we were outside, it was clear to see which agents were the front runners in the hand to hand combat department. Hot Guys 1, 2 and 3 were all surprisingly light on their feet considering their height but Trish was definitely the most adept female.

Barton, Romanoff and Captain Rogers had slowly been making their way around the room, watching each pair for a moment before jumping in with criticism and advice. It was knowing that they could be watching me at any moment that filled me with anxiety for a reason that I couldn't explain.

Still, not one of them told me I was out right rubbish.

And from their hushed whispers every time they looked over at Trish, I could tell they were impressed. And this made me happy. Because Trish was amazing.

Just as my muscles were beginning to ache again, Romanoff called us all to the front so she could talk. Out of all of them, she appeared the strictest - she hardly ever came out with praise and never hesitated to call someone out if she saw something that could be improved.

'We can teach you every maneuver that's in the book, but you're going to have to use your own strengths to your advantage if you want to stand any chance of taking down your enemy. If you're tall, use it - you'll be harder to tackle, will usually have more power and will obviously look more intimidating to any opponent.'

Yeah, I could ignore that rule.

'But.' Romanoff continued, her eyes suddenly meeting mine, 'If you're small, then you have more stealth and speed. And this goes to women especially, men are always going to underestimate you. So make them regret it.'

A smirk crept onto her lips and that was the first time that I'd seen anything that remotely resembled a smile.

I had to use my height to my advantage - I might have looked the least intimidating of the bunch but I had to use that to my advantage.

'Now then, take Cap for example.' Romanoff said, turning to face him and Captain Rogers raised an eyebrow at her - he obviously hadn't been expecting to take part in her demonstration. 'There have been times, not many but a few, where even Captain America has cocked up. But he's managed to use his assets to his advantage. His height, his strength and his power. So, somehow, the old man's still kicking.'

Rogers rolled his eyes and gave her a disapproving look as she simply shrugged her shoulders. Trish, who was stood next to me, leaned over and whispered in my ear.

'They weren't exactly the assets that I was thinking of.' She teased and I grinned, meeting her gaze.

We then drifted back into our pairs and started practicing some more attacking formations - kicks and punches. And while me and Trish practiced the basic technique, I didn't actually hit her very hard despite all her goading.

'Rae, they're staring at us and in a minute they're going to come and tell us off for not practicing properly.' Trish complained, her eyes drifting to somewhere behind me where one of our three instructors was undoubtedly stood.

'No they won't,' I brushed off nonchalantly and Trish glared at me. 'They won't!'

'Just hit me, Rae. I'm a big girl, I can handle it.'

'Well sorry, if I morally have something against kicking my best friend in the stomach.' I whispered angrily and Trish remained quiet for a moment.

'Well, I don't deserve to be your best friend.' She said confidently, and I narrowed my eyes. What?

'What are you talking about?'

'I'm a bitch! I'm lazy and selfish and don't give a shit about anyone else. I'm messy and easily distracted and a crap person, Rae. I don't deserve anything.'

'Shut up, Trish. Yes you do, you're amazing.' I said, my voice stronger and harsher than I'd realised. Trish was an amazing person. Why couldn't she see that?

'And I was kidding myself when I thought I could have more purpose in my life. I'm worth nothing. I might as well move back to San Francisco and spent the rest of my life living under a - '

I struck Trish firmly in the stomach, my leg sending her shooting onto the floor with a thud. I was fizzing with anger - how could Trish possibly think those things about her self? - but when I saw her wide, if some what pained, smile, my anger began to fade a little.

'Why're you smiling?' I asked, slightly confused, as I reached my hand out to her and she grinned even wider.

'I had to find a way to get you to kick me. And I knew that ratting on myself would make you angry.' I didn't respond for a moment, taking in Trish's words. She'd done that deliberately?

I sighed and broke into a small smile, as Trish staggered to her feet.

'We'll make a spy out of you yet.' I said with a sigh and Trish smirked.

'And now you've got a fan club.'

'What?' She gestured to somewhere behind me and I turned to see Barton, Romanoff and Captain Rogers all staring at me.

'Watch out for Agent Hamilton, everyone. She's got some serious power in those little legs of hers.' Barton joked and I blushed slightly as several agents turned around to look at me.

'How about your punches?' Romanoff asked me and I slowly turned to face Trish who narrowed her eyes at me.

'If you think for a moment I'm doing that again, then you're sorely mistaken.' Trish said seriously and I let out a chuckle.  
   
***  
   
After having my punches carefully scrutinized by Captain Rogers and corrected, we were ordered to swap partners. Grudgingly, me and Trish separated and I paired up with a woman called Christina, who I noticed was the long distance expert.

We worked through the same basic maneuvers we'd been doing a minute ago and I had to admit that it was easier practicing with someone who wasn't my best friend.

We practiced in silence for a few moments, and after I dodged a slightly clumsy blow from Christina she stopped for a moment and sighed heavily.

'I'm so bad at this,' she sighed, rolling her shoulders out. 'And you're good. You've so much power and you pick everything up straight away.' Frustratedly, she ran a hand through her long blonde hair and turned away from me.

'But you're brilliant at long distance running.' I stressed, understanding how she was feeling. What she felt right now was the way I felt about long distance running.

'I'm not that good,' she muttered and I gave her a wide smile.

'Yes you are. I'm tired in 5 minutes. But you looked like you could've kept running forever. And if they hadn't had said stop, you could've kept going all morning.'

'I don't know about all morning.' Christina murmured shrugging but with a small smile on her face.

'Come on, I'll help you. It's easy once you've got the hang of it, I promise.'

I spent the next half an hour coaching Christina through all of the basic maneuvers and then some harder kicks and punches and by the time Romanoff was calling us all together again I felt confident that she'd definitely improved.

'For the last thing today, we're going to split you up into pairs and you're going to practice your skills in a high intensity situation. Don't hold anything back. We want this to feel real. Your opponent is trying to kill you. So fight back - '

A wave of anxiety suddenly flooded through me as the agents started being paired up. From what I could see, the pairs were all agents of similar ability.

That's when I was gobsmacked when I was paired up with one of the better fighters, who also happened to be one of the arrogant jerks.

Brilliant.

He was tall, around 6 foot 2, with high cheekbones and bulging arm muscles that could probably crush my head like a grape.

Luckily, our pair wasn't chosen and neither was Trish's so we both sat down on a bench and sat in silence. The silence was evidence that we were both panicking. That the prospect was terrifying. That I certainly wasn't ready to do this.

I was so absorbed in my fears that I didn't even realise that the first fight was already over. Hot guy 2 was clutching a bloody nose and was limping, but his opponent looked far worse - both of her hands were bleeding, her hair was completely disheveled, make-up was smudged across her face and she was grabbing her sides in such a way that made me think she might have broken a rib.

'Take that as a lesson, folks. Never turn your back on your enemy.' Barton said, stood unmovingly by the door with his hands clasped behind his back.

'Okay, we're gonna die.' Trish murmured in my ear as the next two opponents were called up: Christina and another woman that I didn't know the name of. 'And I don't want to die, I'm only 27.'

'They can't let us die. That violates a lot of health codes.'

'Well, have you seen who I'm fighting? He's like 6 foot 5 and has a massive scar on his face and definitely kills cats for a hobby.'

'I seriously doubt that.' I said, watching Christina duck a kick from her opponent and respond with a rather good punch.

'I don't. He's a health hazard.'

'You're a health hazard. You could knock me out with one punch if you wanted to.' I said, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow.

'But I don't. He looks like the kind of guy who gets his kicks out of attacking people.'

'I don't think they let criminals into SHIELD.' I mused. 'It could be a security risk.'

Christina suddenly kicked her opponent to the floor and limped off to the side, nursing her knee. He opponent dragged herself to feet and trudged off to the side, leaving the floor free.

Two pairs down. What felt like an eternity of waiting to go.

'Next it's Hamilton and Ryan.' Romanoff said and her words made my blood run cold. Ryan eagerly jumped to his feet, stretching his arms and making his way over to the floor.

'Go on, Rae. Knock him out. You'll be great.' Trish encouraged, squeezing my shoulder.

'You know I love you, right? Just in case I don't - '

'Hamilton, we're waiting.' Barton interjected and with shaking legs, I made my way over to the floor.

Ryan seemed to be even taller when he was looming over me, his muscles bulging out of his tight grey t-shirt.

'I'm 190 pounds of pure muscle.' He murmured quietly, but in a way that was set to intimidate me.

'What do you want? An award?' My nerves were coming across as sarcasm and I bit my lip to keep myself quiet. I didn't want to rile him up before he pummeled my face in.

He was taller and a better fighter. But I really didn't want to be walking around with a face that was black and blue. And that meant that I was going to have to put up a fight.

And I would.

Ryan suddenly surged forwards, catching me off guard, but I managed to duck out of his way. Yes he was powerful and I was small and, like Romanoff had said, I had speed on my side.

Ryan spun around, his face angry and started aiming punch after punch at my face, at my stomach, at my chest. I managed to block some of them but not all of them, and his fists felt like stinging burns on my skin.

I needed to reclaim the upper hand.

I kicked out while he was distracted, aiming another kick to his chest and a punch to his face. This dazed him for a moment so I could refocus myself. My whole face was stinging and my nose was tingling and oh wait - it was now bleeding too.

Ryan retaliated with a few quick hits to my ribs that I couldn't block and I tried to bring my knee up to kick him in the ribs but he blocked me, kicking me off my feet and sending me falling onto the floor.

My head was spinning and I let out a groan as I felt the full impact of the floor. He kicked out at my ribs, sending another wave of pain through my body. I heard somebody call out his name but I wasn't listening for the voice.

I was literally a sitting duck, lying on my front with my head in my hands. I hated being in this position - being completely defenseless and having no clue whether the enemy was about to stick a knife in my back.

Come on, Regan. You're not a pushover. You can do this.

I rolled onto my back, my vision blurry, Ryan looming over me and kicked out, lightly kicking his ankles.

Come on, Rae. You can do better than that.

I ferociously kicked out in a sweeping motion, sending Ryan falling to the floor and he let out a loud moan. I quickly tried to stagger to my feet, but he grabbed my wrist and yanked me down again, falling onto my arm.

Fuck. That hurt.

I tried pushing up on my hand, but my arm collapsed under my weight. I knew that any moment of weakness I showed that Ryan would take advantage of it as he staggered to his feet, I rolled onto my knees before pushing to my feet.

I was still capable of sending him falling to the floor. I just couldn't use my left hand. It was my weaker hand anyway.

The blood from my nose was now flowing into my mouth and I tried to wipe it away on the back of my arm, but it just smeared across my face. My hand and arm was throbbing and it felt as though all the nerve endings were being fried. Ryan was looking on haughtily, although I was proud to see that it seemed to take a lot of effort to breathe.

He lunged forwards and I blocked him with my right arm, kicking him the chest with my leg. This sent him stumbling backwards a few steps before he pounced forwards again, attacking my unprotected left side.

I punched out with my right arm, my breathing rapid. Everything hurt. And with every single one of his punches, I felt my insides crumbling.

He aimed a punch to my face which whipped my head backwards, the blood flowing quicker now.

Damn.

Another one like that and my nose would be broken.

I turned back to him, glaring over at him through narrow eyes, cursing his smug, contented face. He really was a pig.

'Oh, I'm sorry princess. Did that hurt?' He taunted.

And that was overstepping a boundary.

I launched forwards, kicking and punching with every bit of energy that I had left. He fought back, punching me under my ribs but I couldn't let this stop me. I was powerful and wasn't about to let this pig beat me.

I kicked his feet out from under him suddenly and he fell to the floor again, his leg twisting behind him. He let out a loud grunt and remained still. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears.

For the first time since starting the fight, I looked over at where Trish was sat. She looked a little paler than normal, her eyes wide, but when she saw that I was okay she smiled a little and gave me a thumbs up.

'Alright then. Next up is Jones and Weathersby.' Romanoff announced, not giving my bloody face more than a second look.

Ryan was slowly getting to his feet and without speaking, he managed to wobble over to the bench and sag down, holding his head in his hands.

'You crushed him.' Trish breathed as though she was still in shock. And to be honest, so was I.

'And I look terrible because of it.' Trish took one look at me and cringed slightly.

'Yeah...Yeah, you do look terrible.' She admitted and I giggled softly, my chest burning as I laughed.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Captain Rogers staring at me, his eyes wide. 

'Are you okay?' He mouthed silently and I nodded, wiping some of the blood from my face. He nodded and ignored me once again, looking onto the fight between Jones and Weathersby.

Why had he asked? He hadn't asked about anyone else. And Ryan was definitely in worse shape than I was. And this was a small fact that swelled a sense of pride inside of me. And despite the blood that was trickling down my face and the pounding through my head, I smiled.

\- What did you think?


	8. Sete

Thankfully Trish managed to escape from her fight in a better condition than I did, all thanks to a well aimed right hook that had sent her opponent toppling to the floor. After a few choice words from Barton and Romanoff we'd then been dismissed, and strongly advised by Captain Rogers to visit the med bay.

Trish had forcibly dragged me there, despite my protests that my nose wasn't even broken, but in reality the only thing that was filling my mind was the brief moment that I'd shared with Captain Rogers. For some reason, I just couldn't get it out of my head.

He hadn't bothered to ask any other agents if they were okay as far as I had seen, so why was I the exception? Was it because I was actually a official SHIELD agent and he didn't want me to suddenly collapse while greeting a foreign ambassador? Or was it because he had simply met my eye? Or was it some other reason? But what other reason?

It was all very confusing.

After having the blood that was leaking from my nose mopped up by a nurse, I'd been discharged. That was officially the end of mine and Trish's training today - I knew that Romanoff has holding some French and Spanish classes but as I could already fluently speak both of these I didn't see much point and Trish could already speak Norwegian, apparently this was enough languages for her - but Trish wanted to stay for a bit and do some more training on her own.

I said good bye to Trish and we went our separate ways - she disappeared off to the weight room and I returned to my office to catch up on some emails and to try and contact some more ambassadors that had been alluding me for the last 24 hours.

Yet as I tried to concentrate on constructing an e-mail in perfect German, my mind kept wandering. Firstly, back to the Captain Rogers debacle. Then, back to the whole fighting thing as a whole.

Part of my brain had begun to wonder whether SHIELD's entire purpose was just to make agents' bodies ache because that was all I'd been feeling lately - as well as a whole other list of synonyms. My nose still happened to be throbbing even though it was fine and my knuckles were still bruised and my entire body felt like it had been stretched.

Having said that, I knew that Ryan was in worse shape. I'd seen him being helped onto a table and being swarmed by nurses with what looked like the beginnings of a black eye. I couldn't really remember what had happened. It all seemed just like a blur.

I remembered pain and a flurry of fists and lying on the floor and knowing that if I didn't get up, everything was going to hurt a whole lot more. I didn't even remember punching him in the eye.

At least I now had a couple more fighting stances under my belt so I could at least attempt to fight like a trained SHIELD agent rather than a rabid chipmunk which is what I'd been compared to in the past.

Determined to finish my email to the German ambassador, I tried to push these events out of my mind and focus on the words I was writing and conjugating the right verbs. But, as soon as my fingers hovered over the keyboards, there was a tentative knock on the door.

I looked up to see Trish, her face sweaty, with a smiling, if somewhat anxious, expression on her face.

'Hey. You're not busy, are you?' She asked, stepping forwards.

'I mean, I'll have to get back to the German ambassador at some point but...' I teased and Trish smiled, nodding her head. 'Why? What's up?'

'It's a bit of a long story.' She said slowly, curling an escaped lock of hair around her hair which I'd discovered a long time ago was her nervous habit.

'Go on then. I'm all ears - '  
***  
   
'I can't believe you dragged me into this. Like, I actually can't believe it.' I huffed, angrily crossing my arms and glaring up at Trish who was sporting a rather amused smirk. 'You owe me big time for this.'

It turned out that Trish's big story was that she'd been talking to some of the agents in the weight room - agents who were considerably higher in rank than her - who were planning what was going to happen on the Brazilian embassy's visit. They'd already planned for some kind of musical parade/dance thing with some of the agents who actually possessed some rhythm and it seemed Trish had helpfully dropped that I was an 'amazing dancer and would definitely help out.'

Amazing was definitely not what I was.

And neither was I particularly willing.

So, I'd been pretty much dragged against my will to large training room where a group of about 12 other agents were practicing some sort of Latin routine that resembled a samba.

'My job is to show the Brazilian embassy around and to show them all the amazing work that SHIELD gets up to. Not show them my hip action!' I insisted, watching the group go through the opening bars of their routine which I was trying to seal into my brain.

'You are an amazing dancer!' Trish pressed.

'Well, it's funny that you can also dance and you didn't put yourself forward did you?'

'Come on Rae, we both know that you're the much better dancer.' Trish said, giving me a look. It was true that out of the whole gang, I was probably the most inclined to be dancing. And in a very close second came Bertrand.

'I haven't danced with any of these guys before!' I insisted, knowing that this was rather petty. Whenever I did any form of dancing, it was almost always with Bertrand and I knew everything about the way he danced and trusted him completely.

And considering this dance had lifts, I figured that trust was important.

'I'm confident with Bertrand. I know his style. I don't know anything about...that guy - ' I stuttered, gesturing over to the guy who was lacking a partner who I presumed I'd be dancing with. 'I don't know anything about what he's like.'

'Well, your first fun fact about Lucas Oliveira is that he's actually from Brazil. And obviously he's not bad looking - ' Trish winked at me as I looked back over at Lucas.

He certainly wasn't bad looking with his tanned skin, strong jawline and dark olive eyes. But...he could be a jerk. And he wasn't Bertrand.

And he was my real dance partner. Not some Brazilian replacement.

'That's just great. So now I'm dancing a samba with an actual Brazilian meaning that if it all goes wrong I will definitely offend him as well as his entire culture.' Trish rolled her eyes and nudged me gently in the ribs.

'It won't go badly, Rae. You are amazing.' Trish said confidently and I turned my eyes back to the dance floor where the group were still practicing their steps.

I knew I couldn't back out know, even if I had never actually signed up for it in the first place. And despite all my protests, I actually loved dancing no matter who my partner was.

And I knew that once I got past the embarrassment of having a new partner, I was actually going to really enjoy myself.

The only part of the whole thing that I wasn't looking forward to were the unavoidable comments that I knew would be coming about how sexy the dance was because I really couldn't be bothered thinking of a witty comeback to every single one of them.

This would be a way to show that I was dedicated to SHIELD, though. And at the moment that was all I was trying to prove.

Suddenly, the door leading into the training room opened and in stepped the entirety of the Avengers. save for Sam.

Of course.

The guy who was in charge of choreographing the dance - whose name I didn't actually know - tore his eyes away from his performance and looked towards the intimidating gang of Avengers that had just entered his performance space.

'We'll be about 10 minutes,' he called slightly nervously before turning back to his dancers.

I guessed that the Avengers had some kind of training exercise or meeting or something in this room and it just so happened that our dance practice hadn't finished. So now, I was performing in front of other 12 other SHIELD agents as well as the Avengers.

Just a typical day at the office.

I didn't think the Avengers had actually noticed me yet and were more engrossed in talking among themselves and finding an empty bench to sit down on. I thought I might have actually managed to get away with avoiding mass embarrassment if the agent in charge hadn't suddenly shouted out my name.

'Come on, Hamilton! Get warmed up!' Everybody eyes suddenly shot to me and I inwardly groaned, shooting Trish a glare.

'Hamilton? What the hell are you doing?' Stark questioned, his eyes taking in the black leggings, loose purple top and gold dance heels that I was wearing, a puzzled expression on his face.

'Go on, I'll deal with them. You go and sort yourself out.' Trish said kindly, and I could have kissed her.

'You're an actual angel. You're a star. You're a - '

'I know, I know, you can stop with the compliments.' She joked with a smile and I grinned back at her, quickly tying my hair up into a loose ponytail and hurrying onto the floor.

'Hamilton? What are you doing? What is this?' Stark rambled, as I started jumping on the spot to warm myself up and feeling very self conscious, particularly as Captain Rogers was sat directly across from me, his blue eyes trying extremely hard not to look at me.

I didn't know why this particularly made me feel a bit...deflated...but it did.

'All questions can be put to my agent,' I said, shooting Trish a wink as I stretched out my arms and rolled my head, my neck giving a satisfying crack.

'Keep running through the moves guys, I'm just going to show Hamilton what we're doing.' The choreographer shouted, jogging over to me and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

The samba was basically just a mixture of hip rolls and fast leg movements but neither of these could be done discretely or subtly otherwise it looked like you had an extremely troublesome itch.

As I began walking through the routine, I could hear Trish being bombarded with questions regarding my dancing ability, mainly from Stark, and knew that there was no chance I was ever going to be able to forget this dance.  
   
***  
   
I froze in my final position, sweat running in rivers down my face and my breath fast and uneven. The music cut out and Lucas's hands disappeared from around my back but I wasn't taking in anything. I felt so energized, so alive and so...well...great, because the dance had gone perfectly.

I hadn't kicked anyone in the head, I hadn't fallen over and my solo sections had gone smoothly - and through the entire thing, Trish had been stood on the sidelines cheering me on.

I had tried to ignore the wandering eyes of the other agents that lay scattered around the room who had been drawn out by the music blasting through the speakers. Some of the agents had been more low-key than others; some agents had looked as though they had been undressing me in their heads which wasn't a particularly encouraging thought when I'd been trying my absolute hardest not to lose focus.

That was when I realised that several people around the room were clapping and cheering and whistling and a smile involuntarily appeared on my face. Trish was beaming and clapping like a maniac and I wiped some sweat from my face on the back of my hand, slowly walking over to her, my legs tingling.

'That was so good!' She praised, launching me into a tight hug and not even mentioning my sweat stained body. 'You were so good!'

'Thanks,' I breathed, still struggling to catch my breath. The dancers were beginning to filter out now, giving way for the Avengers to have...whatever it was they were having. 'I actually really enjoyed it.'

'See! I knew you'd like it!' Trish insisted and I smirked. 'And everyone else seemed to like it to.' She said with a wink and I rolled my eyes.

'Yeah, I could have got a restraining order on some people.'

'Stark hasn't made any sarcastic comments so you must have been okay.' I looked to where Stark was sat at the side, flicking through something on his phone. 'And the sexy fossil looked very interested.'

I ignored the meaning behind Trish's words and my eyes drifted to where he was sat. He was staring down at his hands, flexing his fingers while his face was a little flushed...

...The dance hadn't been that sexy...had it?

'He was being polite.' I insisted, watching his eyes flicker up and suddenly meet with mine from across the room. I awkwardly cleared my throat and looked back to Trish who was sporting a mischievous smirk.

'What?'

'Nothing. Nothing at all.'

\- If you want to see the dance then it's something like [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUwH-7M4Zsc)!

FEATURED SONGS:  
Ricky Martin - She Bangs


	9. Atte

My final class of the day was another compulsory one, led by Romanoff. I'd managed to finish a good chunk of my e-mails as well as douse myself in cold water and to avoid any particularly uncomfortable conversations concerning the samba - a dance, I'd been informed, that was definitely being shown to the Brazilian embassy for their visit.

And in my mixture of nerves and worry, I was actually slightly looking forward to it.

Romanoff's class was a basic introduction to the art of espionage - including going undercover and how to get through an interrogation. Personally, this stuff was way more interesting than figuring out fighting techniques.

Captain Rogers was there too, but he hadn't spoken a word since the class had started. I knew from gossip within the UN and my quick research session the previous day that Natasha Romanoff was a complete badass. That was pretty much it.

She was uncrackable under interrogation, could hide in plain sight and could speak more languages than I could. It was rumored she was fluent in Arabic, a language I was yet to perfect.

Next to me, Trish was stood completely still and her eyes were fixed wholly on Romanoff. She had a different presence to Captain Rogers - she was honest and unmoving but wasn't as intimidating as Captain Rogers. Or maybe that was just because the whole world knew of the missions Rogers had completed, whereas all of Romanoff's were hidden in password protected files.

As Romanoff moved on to talk about ways to blend in with your surroundings, I noticed some movement in the corner of my eyes. A handful of agents were shuffling around, their eyes drifting to far corners on the rooms, quietly communicating between themselves with hand gestures and facial expressions. My eyes narrowed.

They hadn't been acting that way this morning when Captain Rogers had been discussing endurance and stamina.

I turned my attention back to Romanoff, who was also looking over at the group of badly behaved pupils but with much less interest than I had. The look she wore scared me because I couldn't read it.

'When you're undercover, you're often completely cut off from your SHIELD network. You're alone with yourself. But your body is your canvas that is going to keep you alive. You need to be able to modify yourself. To be able to change all the parts of you that make you you to be able to remain hidden and complete a mission.' Romanoff explained.

I'd never exactly been undercover but I'd to fit certain roles during my years at the UN and that had involved changing my physical appearance, my demeanor and my voice in order to suit whoever I was talking to, whether that be a politician or a local cop or a homeless woman.

And being best friends with two performers had certainly helped me with this. I'd received a whole actors education just by being friends with Rami and Bertrand without ever having stepped foot inside stage school.

'So, seeing that you also need to be able to think on your feet, here's your first task: You've got five minutes. In those five minutes, you need to completely alter your appearance and your attitude. I want you to come back here as a completely different person. You can anything at your disposal that here in the compound but remember, out in the field you wouldn't have that luxury. Go.'

My nerves suddenly kicked in as a group of agents ran out of the room to grab who knows what. Trish immediately shrugged off her jacket and removed the tie from her hair, her thick black curls springing up around her head.

I didn't need to panic. 5 minutes was loads of time. And I needed to use it effectively.

Romanoff had was now quietly chatting with Captain Rogers, a small smirk on her lips.

I needed to think of a character. Something to drive my new found persona. Something -

'Agent Hamilton?' My eyes shot up at the voice. Captain Rogers was staring over at me, Romanoff still wearing the smirk. I was the only agent still in the room.

'I'm thinking.' I replied, trying to sound confident as I built my new personality up in my head. I needed to be quiet, insecure, scared, insignificant.

'Well, you've already lost a minute.' Romanoff answered, turning back to Captain Rogers. I ignored his gaze as I tugged off my cardigan and re-tied my hair into a low bun, tucking some locks behind my ears.

'Weren't you saying just this morning that you thought she was beautiful and she didn't need to change a thing about her appearance?'

My feet froze to the spot at these words as I kicked off my sneakers. What? Who was this she? Did Captain Rogers have a crush within SHIELD? There were some gossip websites where I could have sold this information for hundreds of dollars but I didn't have time to consider who Cap's mystery woman was.

Even if Captain Rogers and Romanoff were now looking directly at me.

***  
   
3 minutes and 40 seconds later, everyone was stood back in front of Romanoff, her scathing eyes passing over each and every one of us.

I'd replaced my loose jogging pants with the smart trousers I'd worn to work this morning. I'd tucked the purple top in, thrown on the black blazer I'd also worn this morning and located my black heels. I'd completely wiped off the remnants of my lipstick and pulled some bits out of my bun to give myself a more disheveled appearance.

If anyone asked, I was going for librarian chic. And my name was Mary. And I lived in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn and had three cats.

My arms were crossed in front of me, my legs clenched together and my eyes looking down at the floor. Mary wouldn't make eye contact with anyone unless she had to. She didn't like people.

Trish had taken the alternative route and was now sporting some bright red lipstick, a leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans and had a wide smile on her face. She wasn't Patricia anymore, or even Trish. She was Alex, the lead singer in an up-and-coming rock band whose ex-boyfriend had owned a snake and a turtle. And had been caught vandalizing.

It seemed that Rami and Bertrand's influence was beginning to rub off on us both.

Romanoff's footsteps suddenly stopped in front and I bit my lip, my eyes flickering between her stern face and the floor. She didn't move for a moment and I could sense the growing nausea in my stomach, as though I'd really become Mary. After a second, Romanoff continued walking but not before whispering a single word in my ear.

'Good.'

I was forced to suppress the gigantic smile that was fighting to make its way onto my face as I stared back down at my feet, a rush of happiness flowing through me.  
   
***  
   
An hour and a half later, the class was drawing to a close. Romanoff had evaluated our efforts and had generally given us some feedback, stressing the importance of changing your stance and your behavior. I'd only been partly listening, her one word of praise still ringing through my head like a bell.

We'd then moved onto talking about interrogation techniques, which was a very important skill for a SHIELD agent to be able to have. We had to be able to interrogate a suspect effectively as well as survive been interrogated ourselves. I knew a little bit about this already, thanks to my years at the UN, but I was still intent on listening to Romanoff - I wanted to learn from the best.

She'd hinted, or at least I picked up on, that this was one of the skills we were going to be tested on during our SHIELD training and that those people who had chosen interrogation lessons would benefit the most. I had put my name down for a couple of these classes, mainly because it was one of the aspects of my job that I enjoyed the most.

'Now, there's another part of your training that you're going to have to pass if you want to join SHIELD that can't be taught in a class.' Romanoff said, as the tiredness was beginning to drag on my body. I knew the time was around 5pm and I just wanted to go home. But, at these words, I shared a look with Trish and forced myself to listen.

Captain Rogers left his position at the edge of the room where he'd been stood for the majority of the class, and joined Romanoff in the center of the room.

'If you all successfully complete your SHIELD training, almost everyone will gain their Level 1 SHIELD status.' Captain Rogers said, his eyes lingering on me for a moment. If I managed to pass all my classes, then I'd be moved up to Level 7.

'But you might not be needed for a mission for months at a time and it's important to keep your training and physical condition at a good standard. It's a good idea to have some kind of physical hobby that you can practice in your own time. So what we're asking is you think of your own physical development skill and then give us some video evidence that you've been practicing.'

It took me all of three seconds to decide what my physical development skill was going to be: gymnastics. I might have been doing it on and off for the last few years but I was nowhere near the standard I'd been at when I was a teenager. And I'd quite like to get back to that.

'Looking at your SHIELD application forms, it's clear that some of you already have some physical skills you could develop. Agent Manning, for example, could do martial arts. Agent Hamilton could do gymnastics. Agent - ' Captain Rogers was cut off by a chorus of whispered chuckles and my eyes shot to the offending group. The same group who'd been ignoring Romanoff earlier.

'Is there a problem?' Captain Rogers asked, his voice polite yet firm. My eyes narrowed.

'It's just that...gymnastics isn't really a sport, is it sir?' One agent said, his voice equally polite but the true meaning behind his words evident.

I wanted to punch him in his smug face and send him in the same direction that I'd sent Ryan earlier. I'd done gymnastics for 12 years and I could only remember the muscles and the power that I'd stored in my little body. If I was in the shape I had been back then, I could have strangled him with my thighs without breaking a sweat.

'I think you'll find it is. Agent McCormack.' Captain Rogers said sharply. I was still seething.

'Yeah, well it's just flips and stuff, isn't it?' He said, a smirk on his face. Trish was glaring over at him, an equally angry look on her face. and I had to physically restrain myself from going to kick him.

'No, McCormack, it's not just flips and stuff.' Romanoff said, mimicking his voice. 'Gymnastics is one of the most physically demanding sports on the planet. It conditions the muscles, builds power, endurance and flexibility and is also good for mindfulness. Agent Hamilton's gymnastic background explains why she's so fast and strong and was able to beat Agent Ryan.'

'So, actually, it is a sport, Agent McCormack. And judging from your performance this morning, you might want to give it a go.' Captain Rogers finished, his face hard and stern. I wanted to laugh. Take that, man.

'It's a good idea to keep your general fitness up, even if you're not currently on active status.' Captain Rogers continued, ignoring Agent McCormack and the rest of his cronies. 'You could be called on at a moment’s notice for a mission and if you're not in shape then your putting yourself and the rest of your team at risk.'

'If you've any questions you can ask but other than that, you're dismissed.' Romanoff finished. About three quarters of the agents left the room while a couple of stragglers hung around to ask questions, leaving myself and Trish in the center of the room.

'The only physical skill I have at the minute is a strong diaphragm.' I joked, causing Trish to smirk and roll her eyes.

'That's a lie and you know it.' Trish replied. 'And I take it I wasn't the only person who wanted to punch McCormack in the face?'

'You most certainly were not.'

'Hamilton?' I suddenly looked up at Romanoff's voice as she walked over to me and Trish, her arms folded. 'We've got some old gym equipment, somewhere. Room 13 or 14, I think. And you're welcome to use it to practice.'

'Oh...Thank you - ' I was slightly surprised at her words, but I didn't know why. She was a trainer, so it was her job to help her recruits and be supportive.

But it was also her job to be a master-assassin and take down whole governments single-handedly.

And those two personas didn't really fit together.


	10. ʻEiwa

I slumped down onto the chair next to Trish, my steaming plate of pasta causing my stomach to growl. Trish had convinced me to stay on the compound to have some dinner and while I was eager to settle down on the sofa, I was more eager to fill the pit in my stomach.

I'd managed to respond to a couple more e-mails and get a little more work done but I knew that the situation was only going to get more difficult. I was going to have to, somehow, fit all my work around my training which, according to the schedule I'd been sent, took up the vast majority of my time for the next few weeks.

But, having said that, I was - in a strange way - enjoying my training. I might have only lived through two days of SHIELD training and by the tenth I might be ready to call it quits but at the moment the pros outweighed the cons.

And the last class I'd had with Romanoff had been the most fun I'd had since joining SHIELD. I didn't know what it was about undercover missions and interrogations but to me, they were the most interesting and enjoyable parts of the job. Of course it helped that I already had some basic understanding as the UN taught you how to fit into your surroundings and to consequently shift the outcome of events into your favour.

Despite it being around 6pm, the canteen was surprisingly full. But then again, SHIELD was an organization that never slept and never shut its doors; there would always be agents returning from missions and agents starting shifts and just because I was going home didn't mean everybody else was.

Next to me, Trish was eagerly digging into her chicken stir-fry while the remainder of the table was empty. I knew that at some point I would become closer to some of my other SHIELD colleagues and would be sat at a table filled with other people, as well as Trish.

But that day was not today.

I needed to get the agents to trust me before I became best friends with them and sat with them at dinner and judging from how many agents had actually talked to me in the two days I'd been here, I hadn't reached that level yet.

It was clear from the lack of conversation between Trish and myself that we were both ravenous. It was also clear from the amount of food that we'd been able to shift in a matter of minutes that we could eat enough to feed an entire army.

As was tradition, the table opposite ours was crowded with Avengers - Stark, Barton, Captain Rogers and Romanoff.  I knew that they were all very busy and would travel all the way around the world in the space of a day but they were the most common fixtures around SHIELD.

'Is that Sam coming over here?' Trish suddenly spoke, her gaze fixed on something to the left of me. I turned my head to see Sam approaching our table, laden with a tray of chicken curry.

I hadn't actually seen Sam as much as I thought I would have in my last two days but, as he'd told me before, he wasn't SHIELD's poster boy and while Stark and Captain Rogers got sent on all the big, earth-saving missions, he prepared to take the slightly important missing persons or possibly dangerous drug busts.

'Either that or he's being mind-controlled.' I replied, smiling as Sam placed his tray down on the table and sat down. Behind him I could see a couple of curious looks from other agents - particularly coming from the Avengers table - but I pushed these to the back of my mind.

'Is this seat taken?' He asked with a smirk and I rolled my eyes. I'd known Sam for a number of years now and I'd considered him a friend since not long after that, rather than just a person I saw once a week.

'Not sitting with your Avenger buddies?' I teased, knowing that Sam would simply brush this off.

'Am I not allowed to have other friends?' He pouted and I shrugged.

'I mean yeah but - '

'I'm sure that I'm being desperately missed.' He said dramatically, casting a look behind him and winking. 'But I wanted to see my favourite new rookies. And welcome you to the Sam Wilson experience.'

'Oh yeah? What's that?' I asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow at Trish as she smirked at me.

'Being friends with the great and honored Sam Wilson opens up a lot of doors that two SHIELD newbies wouldn't normally get to experience. I'm basically your VIP pass - ' He said smugly, casually leaning back in his chair and I glared at him.

'To what?' I asked incredously, eating a forkful of pasta.

'I can get you into some exclusive SHIELD/Stark parties. And you can meet some pretty cool people...'

'Well, I've already met the Avengers so that's your guest list ruined.' I joked, watching Sam roll his eyes. 'And I'm pretty hard to impress. Have you met the pope?' I was met with silence as Sam wolfed down his food which I took to be a negative.

I, on the other hand, had met the pope. And the President. All in the same day.

'Oh and this is Trish. Trish Manning - ' I said suddenly, realizing that while they both knew of each other, they'd never actually met in person. 'Well, Agent Manning in a month's time.'  
'That's if I don't get thrown out,' Trish muttered under her breath, smiling across at Sam who nodded his greeting at her.

'There's no way that you're going to get thrown out.' I insisted confidently. 'You're brilliant.'

'From what I've heard you're both looking pretty decent so far.' Sam said.

'Really? Where'd you hear that from?' Trish asked and my curiousity was instantly piqued. Where had he heard that from?

'I'm afraid that I can't reveal that information to two rookies such as yourselves.' He said with a wide grin and I narrowed my eyes at him. 'What? I'm not going to reveal my sources. We act in strict confidentiality...'

'Sam - ' I chagrinned, giving him a stern look and he chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 'Don't make me hurt you.'

'Okay! Okay! I might have been talking with Cap, and he said you're both great!' He stuttered, tripping over his words and I happily looked over at Trish, filling with a small sense of pride.

If Captain America thought that me and Trish were decent, then I would take that compliment and run with it.

'Did he actually?' Trish asked conspicuously. While she was an eternal optimist most of the time, she did sometimes find it slightly difficult at accepting compliments.

'Yeah. He said you two both aced your combat tests.'

'I don't know if I'd say aced...' Trish murmured again and I giggled, mentally wincing at the memory of being beaten into a semi-pulp by Ryan. But then beating him into a pulp in response.

'But that your running could use a bit of an improvement.' He said smirking and I groaned, looking over at Trish with a grimace on my face.  
'If Captain America said that we need to get better at running - '

'But I hate running!' I whined, stabbing my pasta aggressively with my fork. 'It is not enjoyable in any shape or form and I don't need to be able to run a mile in under seven minutes!'

'Hey, don't shoot the messenger!' Sam protested. 'And honestly, he thinks you're great. Really great.' Sam now wore a look that I couldn't quite read, something that looked smug but worried at the same time.

'At least that's one out of three people that I have on my side.' Trish said. 'Agent Romanoff is terrifying.' I nodded in agreement.

'Nah, she's a softie.' Sam said with a wave of his hand and me and Trish both stared over at him, almost open-mouthed.

Softie was not a word that I associated with her. Highly-trained, deadly and quick-thinking, yes. But not softie.

'Are you actually insane? She could squash me like a fly!' I screeched, watching Sam smirk. 'I don't know what you're smirking at. She's actually a real life ninja.'

'I mean, yes. She can be terrifying. She can speak pretty much every language that there is and could kill you at any moment of the day. But that's all just a front, I promise. Nat's actually a really cool person - '

'And the day that I'm allowed to call her Nat without being drop-kicked is the day that I actually die.' I mused, watching Trish smile widely beside me.

I knew that, deep down, Romanoff really wasn't like that all of the time. Even the scariest, most intimidating figures in the world had their moments of vulnerability and softness.  
But, for some reason, you didn't see the Avengers as having weaknesses. You didn't see them as real people. You saw them on the front of the newspaper or on the TV all the time but you never really considered them as the actual people behind the personas, behind the tight outfit and flashy name.

But that was something I was going to have to come to terms with. And quickly.


	11. Ten

That night me and Trish organized our running schedule for the foreseeable future. We were going to met at the SHIELD compound at 7:45 and then go on a 45 minute run - though I doubted if we could actually last that long - before returning to the compound and preparing ourselves for the day ahead.

At 11pm at night and with half a glass of wine in my system, this idea had sounded like the solution to all of our problems.

At 6:34 the following morning as I clambered into my car, my body yawning with exhaustion and drenched with the rain that was pounding against the windows, the idea was less of the solution to the problem and more of just another problem.

I'd decided that as well as going for my morning run, there was no time like the present to start building on my gymnastic ability. I had promised myself last night that I would search out the gymnastic equipment before my run with Trish and see what I could still do and what I could spend the next month practicing.

It was new phenomena to me that half a glass of wine turned me into a health nut.

It was also a new phenomena to me setting off for work at 6:30 in the morning and wasn't a phenomena that I particularly liked.

When I'd woke up the weather had looked rather nice: crisp and cool with the pale rays of the sun shining through the window. But as soon as I'd opened the door, the heavens had opened as I carefully pulled out of my drive, I cursed my late-night thought process into thinking that running in Fall would ever be a good idea.

Me and Trish were going to drown.

It was almost as though the weather was determined to reflect my mood because as I drove further and further into town towards SHIELD headquarters, the rain got heavier and heavier as I grew more and more frustrated.

I was wearing a rather creative ensemble as the novelty of having to have two work outfits - one to train in and one to actually work in - had begun to wear off. Therefore, I was dressed in a pair of black leggings and a white tank top with my smart black and white blazer thrown over the top and ankle boots on my feet.

I wasn't there to wear a pencil skirt all the time. I was there to work and at that minute my work consisted of training.

I hadn't even bothered with my hair and it was currently stuck across my face due to the rain outside.

To my surprise, the roads were packed. As I inched ever closer to SHIELD HQ, I noted all of the cars that were whizzing past me at such an ungodly hour in the morning. Why were there so many cars on the roads? Why wasn't everyone still in bed?

I sighed, breaking behind a massive truck and lolling back in my seat. This was exactly the reason why I didn't get up early in the morning. Because everything was always manic even though the whole world was supposed to be still asleep.

I cast my eyes out of the window, looking into the park where I sometimes took the dogs on their walks if I had enough time to bundle them all into the car. Despite the torrential weather, I could still spot a couple of devoted owners taking their pooches for a walk. And some runners. Because who goes running at 6 in the morning? Wait -

My eyes zoned in on one particular runner, his blue t-shirt soaked through and his blond hair sticking to his head. I would have recognized him anywhere. It was Captain Rogers. Or rather, a drowned rat who resembled Captain Rogers. I mean...he was still dashingly handsome. Just more...drowned.

He was running as though he couldn't even feel the rain in a gentle jog. But every now and then I'd see him sigh and brush some water from his eyes and it was clear that even a super soldier wasn't immune to the rain.

Without thinking I rolled the window down and stuck my head out, cringing against the cold drops of rain. 'Hey! Captain Rogers!' What did I call him? Cap? Steve? Agent Rogers?

Nevertheless, he still managed to hear me over the roar of the rain and he jogged over to me, a somewhat shy look on his face. Thankfully, the traffic was still unmoving otherwise I would have had an angry pack of drivers chasing after me and I doubted whether they'd let me off because I was offering to give Captain America a lift.

'Do you want a lift? This rain doesn't look like it's letting up.' I asked, watching him run a hand through his hair that had darkened a few shades thanks to the rain. He looked surprised at my offer at first but quickly covered it with a kind smile.

'Oh no, it's alright. I'm heading back to my apartment now. I'll be fine.' I gave him a stern look, raising one eyebrow.

His t-shirt was so wet it was literally sticking to his muscles and while this might have been quite appealing to look at, I couldn't doubt he didn't look a bit uncomfortable despite his efforts to hide it. And as well as the rain, it was also pretty cold and while he might have built up a resistance to the cold, it still didn't sit right with me.

'You sure? I don't want you getting hypothermia out here.' I said strongly, a slight wash of awkwardness filling me. I'd barely said two words to him since I'd started at SHIELD and now I was offering him, Captain America, a ride in my car. But he might be Captain America but that doesn't mean he's exempt from being offered a lift.

'I'm not sure if I can actually get hypothermia.' He said in a teasing tone and I restrained myself from rolling my eyes.

Those people who were too nice and too stubborn for their own good were not the kind of people you wanted to be offering a lift to when there were ten waiting cars parked behind you that were going to be moving any minute because as I tore my eyes away from Captain Rogers for one moment, I saw the lights change to amber.

'I don't care. I'm not moving until you get in and then you can explain why I'm causing chaos on the roads.' I said firmly and leaned back in my seat and folded my arms, looking up at him with my eyebrow raised. Captain Rogers sighed but had a smirk on his face, knowing that as the lights turned to green he had no way to get out of this as I really was going to stay there until he got in my car.

Shaking his head and murmuring something under his breath, he quickly jogged over to the passenger side. I couldn't really believe I'd just offered Captain America a lift. But then, were now technically colleagues. And, if I was thinking much more cynically than normal, I suppose this would also be a way to earn some of his trust.

Captain Rogers slid into the seat beside me, quickly fastening his belt and I inched forwards across the road before I could be the target of any early morning road-rage.  
Awkward silence now lay between us as I became hyper-aware of every single one of my movements, as though he was judging my driving ability. My ribs felt tight and I felt slightly sick. What was wrong with me?

Get a grip, Regan. 

'I know it's not particularly flashy.' I said suddenly as I saw him eyeing up the upholstery that, now I was looking at it, could do with a serious clean. 'And it's quite old. But it gets me from A to B without much trouble.'

'Nice and dependable, I like it.' He replied with a grin, meeting my eyes as I dragged them back to the road before he could think I was an unsafe driver. You definitely don't want Captain America thinking you're an unsafe driver.

'And I'm sorry if you get slightly covered in dog hair.' I stuttered, slowly moving forwards and cursing the early morning traffic. It was 6:56 already. At this rate I was going to have next to no gymnastic practice before my highly-anticipated (for all the wrong reasons) run with Trish.

'You've got dogs?' He asked, his brows furrowed in curiousity and I nodded.

'Yeah. 3.' I grinned at his reaction - something between shock and laughter - and shrugged. 'I really am a crazy dog lady. They're literally like my children.'

'I've always liked dogs.' He said, looking wistfully off into the distance. 'But it would be just too impractical for me to have one because I never know how long I'm going to be away on a mission for.' I nodded, noticing the look of sadness in his eyes as I surged the car forwards, the traffic finally breaking.

'D'you still want to go back to your apartment? Or do you want to go over to SHIELD?' I asked, realizing that I hadn't even asked where he was going and could have been driving in completely the wrong direction. I knew that I wasn't, however, because my research session had also told me the current addresses of most of the Avengers and I knew that Cap lived in Brooklyn.

'No, I might as well just go to SHIELD. I've got some spare clothes there anyway.' I nodded, turning left and wincing slightly at the closeness of the car behind me. Couldn't he back up a little? 

'What are you doing up so early? Doesn't your shift only start at 9?'

I was slightly taken aback that Captain America knew what time I started work but brushed this off. 'I'm going working on my physical development skill.' I said, seeing him smile. 'And then I'm going for a run with Trish.'

'Trish?' He asked, looking puzzled and I nodded.

'Patricia Manning. I call her Trish. I've known her for years. Since college.'

'And your development skill's gymnastics, right?' He asked and I nodded, again taken aback that he knew what my physical skill was.

'I used to do it a lot when I was younger. I used to drive my parents with it. I competed for a while as well. If I'd kept going it might have made the Olympic team.' I said nostalgically, thinking back to the time when my only worries had been that I couldn't perfect a tumble.

'That's really impressive.' Captain Rogers said earnestly and I smiled, feeling a burst of warmth inside my chest. 'You must have been really talented.'

'I suppose I was.' I admitted timidly. 'Before I broke my leg when I was 17. That put me out of action for a while. It took me a year to get back in the gym but it was never the same after that. I stopped competing. And just did it for fun.'

The incident seemed so long ago now but at the time it had seemed like my entire world and all my dreams had been crushed into tiny pieces. I cried a lot that year and even now, looking back on it, I could feel the cold chill in my stomach.

I could feel Captain Rogers staring at me with a grave and sorry look on his face but I didn't look at him and kept my eyes firmly on the road. We were nearing the SHIELD compound now which a tiny part of my brain was glad about because then I could skip on the personal questions as well as the tension that was beginning to build.  
I coughed, the sound abnormally loud in the confined space of my car. Why did I feel so awkward? I was giving my colleague a lift to work to escape the rain.

But that colleague was Captain America, one of the country's most respected military figures. And while this should have meant nothing, as I'd repeatedly said that the person wasn't the persona that they got stamped with, I couldn't help feel that the man sitting next to me was worthy of something other than my battered, dog-haired car. And should be spending his time doing something other than talking to me about my gymnastic past.

'You're...You're a very talented dancer as well.' He said finally and I felt a small blush rise to my cheeks as I looked over at him and smiled slightly.

'Thanks.' He nodded, his face as flushed as I felt. 'Trish put me up to that one yesterday. I had no idea what I was getting myself into.'

Captain Rogers let out an embarrassed chuckle as I pulled into the SHIELD compound and quickly found a parking space, the flurry of 9 to 5 agents not yet having arrived.

'Thanks very much for the lift.' He said thankfully as he clambered out and I grabbed my bags. 'Really. It was much more pleasant than running in the rain.'

'You're welcome.' I said with a grin, locking my the door and swinging my handbag onto my shoulder.

'I hope your training goes well. I'll see you later - ' He said as we reached the doors to the compound and he held it open for me. 'And thanks again for the lift.'

'Yeah, I'll see you later.' I said, letting out a breath and trying to find my bearings. 'And it was no problem. I like to think that if I was running in the rain - not that I ever would be - a kindly driver would offer to give me a lift.' Now I needed to find Room 13.

I started off down the corridor, Captain Rogers walking the other way before his voice called out to me.

'Oh, Regan!' I shot around, the sound of my first name on his lips sounding too personal for me to comprehend.

'Yeah?' I managed to stutter, staring back at him, his hair sticking up at odd angles thanks to the rain.

'You can call me Steve.' My breath suddenly stopped and a lump lodged in my throat. 'We are co-workers. And Captain Rogers can be a bit of a mouthful.'

This was it. This was the first step to finally being accepted here at SHIELD and being wholly valued. I now had permission to call Captain America via his first name.

And things could only go up from there.


	12. Onze

It took me a grand total of 6 minutes to find Room 13, which was hidden away from the rest of the training rooms, and judging from the state of the paint work it hadn't been re-decorated in a very long time. The walls were painted a slightly strange light green colour, with the floors covered in a thin blue carpet, and positioned around the large matted area in the middle of the room were various gymnastic apparatus - a beam, a vault, parallel bars, uneven bars and a pommel horse.

I quickly tied my damp hair into a braid and shrugged off my blazer, dropping my things in the corner of the room near what looked like a very old stereo. I fished my phone out from my bag and plugged it in, before pressing shuffle and the voice of Katy Perry belting out and filling the room.

Now that I was here, after having dragged my body out of bed and through the rain, I realised that I had absolutely nothing planned and no idea as to how to start beating my body back into shape. But then, why couldn't I be spontaneous every once in a while? I was just going to see what happened.

Without thinking about it, my eyes were drawn to the slightly battered balance beam that sat in the corner.

Hmm. Maybe not first thing. I should probably warm up first.

Despite having not competed in gymnastics since the age of 17, I still regularly had a tumble in the gym that I had constructed in my basement as well as doing some yoga and occasionally some martial arts when Trish forced me.

Having said that, my body strength was absolutely no where near what it was when I had been younger. But I still had some muscle tone - I wasn't a complete jellyfish - so at least I was starting from something.

After a minute of star jumps and jogging on the spot, I started some basic stretches. I spent the longest time on my legs, warming up the muscles with a series of lunges and balances and even forcing them into the splits because I knew that with the amount of impact they were going to take, they needed to be stretchy.

After mobilizing my joints and checking that my hair was still secure, I padded over to the balance beam. I hadn't even given the vault or uneven bars a second look as beam and floor had always been my preferred apparatus.

I'd be told by pretty much every gymnastic instructor that I'd ever come across that these two were the most difficult of apparatus but that hadn't deterred me in the slightest; they had always been my favourite and always would be.

Suddenly remembering, I ran over to my bag and set up the camera that I'd brought with me, angling the camera towards the balance beam. I needed to record all of my gymnastic practicing as proof to Capta - sorry, Steve - and the others that I'd been working on it.

I placed my hands on the side and pushed myself up onto it, noticing that there was no resin around. Steadying myself with my hands, I pushed myself up from my knees and placed my feet one in front of the other.

This height I could handle. I was happy at this height. And while it had taken me a long time to feel comfortable on the beam after breaking my leg, I felt more in control of my body here. I could handle being 4 feet off the ground. It was when that number startled doubling and tripling and zeros started being added that I began to feel nervous.  
With the music flowing around me I began to improvise, walking up and down the length of the beam twisting my arms and head and getting a feel for the fabric beneath my bare feet.

Okay. Let's start out easy. Balances. Where both feet didn't have to leave the floor.

***

I spent the next 20 minutes or so working on as many balances as I could think of and making sure I could do them all flawlessly. Balancing not only built up muscle but also built up my confidence in myself and proved that I could do some things without falling over. I did a series of arabesques and then arabesque scales before moving into some side scales and then some balances on demi-pointe.

So far, so good. I hadn't fallen over.

Yet.

In an attempt to keep up this record, I decided to continue with turns rather than any leaps or walkovers as with these I had a bigger chance of falling off and injuring myself.  
I started off with a pivot turn, which I did a couple of times without falling off. Then I progressed onto a half pirouette. And nearly fell over. But I didn't, managing to plant my feet and harden my core at the last minute.

Phew.

I did a couple more, keeping my eyes fixed on the clock on the wall to help me turn, my core tight and my thigh pulled back. My landings were slightly messy as I fumbled with where to plant my feet but I didn't fall over. Which was my overall objective.

Next up was a full pirouette. I could do this. I could do this. I planted my feet, kept my head high and my eyes focused on the clock. I pulled up to my full height and kept my shoulders back. I stretched my foot out before bringing it back in and bending my knees, pulling up and twisting around, keeping my right foot bent towards my knee.

It was going well. I was spotting. My arms were correct. But then my supporting leg shifted and my weight was thrown back and -

And I landed on the crash mat with a thud. My knees rattled and I let out an annoyed groan, rolling onto my back.

I'd forgotten how much falling off hurt. And it wasn't even so much the pain of falling off. It was the pain of failing to be able to complete a step. The pain of disappointment.  
I grudgingly sat up, my eyes noticing the camera that was now pointing at any empty balance beam and was currently filming me lying on the floor and moaning.

Come on, I could do this. No one got anywhere without falling off just once.

***

I fell off a grand total of four times in an attempt to perfect my turns and when a knock rapped on the door, I was on the brink of a bad mood.  
These moves weren't supposed to be very difficult. There had been a time where I'd been able to turn after turn after turn with absolutely no issue and certainly without falling off. So why was I finding it so difficult? I knew I could do it. I'd done it before, albeit years ago. Why was my body finding it so difficult.

I was pulling myself off the floor again when Trish entered, dressed in running gear with her hair dripping wet and water dampening her clothes. Huffing with annoyance, I got to my feet and switched off the camera. Trish was speaking to me, casual small talk about how it was a lovely day but I was more focused on the fact I couldn't even do some simple spins, never mind leaps or tumbles.

'Hello? Rae? Anyone in there?'

'Huh?' I started, brushing some hair from my face and stomping over to her. She had a knowing look on her face and I relaxed slightly. It was as though she could detect when I was feeling particularly snappy. 'Sorry. It's been...interesting.'

'I figured that I'd find you in here. Didn't think I'd find you rolling around on the floor, though.' She added with a smile and I groaned, turning away from here and frustratedly holding my head in my hands.

'I don't get why it's so hard! It's just a turn! I used to be able to do them all the time!' I complained and Trish gave me a sympathetic look.

'That was ten years ago. And I suppose you're not as physically strong as you used to be.' I nodded slowly. It seemed I was going to have to spend a lot more time than I'd originally thought on my development skill.

'I take it it's still raining,' I said pointedly, gesturing to her sodden clothes after a pause and Trish smirked.

'Yep. I suppose that means we can wait a few minutes before heading out.' She said and I grinned, knowing that deep down Trish wanted to go for the run as little as I did.

Trish started stretching out her arms and rolling her neck as I started walking through the choreography for the samba that I needed to retain in my mind.

'And I've got some news.' I said suddenly, kicking my leg out and shooting Trish a sly smirk. 'Some rather interesting news.'

'What?' She asked, her curiousity instantly piqued and my smile grew. 'What?'

'I gave the sexy fossil a lift to work this morning.' I admitted with a grin and Trish's dark eyes grew to the size of plates.  
'YOU WHAT?'

'Oh yeah. I saw him running around the park like a drowned rat and because I'm so nice - and because I need people to like me - I gave him a lift. He asked about my dogs and my gymnastic background and we had a very pleasant conversation.' I said smugly, watching Trish's look of surprise morph into a smile the Cheshire cat would be proud of.

'And have you fallen madly in love with him yet?' She asked mischievously and I glared at her. 'Does he smell of apple pie and freedom?'

'He was wearing a very tight t-shirt.' I mused, resulting in a giggle from Trish. 'And I didn't really get the chance to smell him.'

'Did he ask about your dancing?' Trish asked and I rolled my eyes.

'As a matter of fact, yes.' I replied and Trish giggled again.

'Maybe he'll fall in love with you - ' She said with a smirk.

'I don't know. Patricia Rogers has a particularly good ring to it, don't you think?' I shot back and Trish playfully nudged me in the ribs, laughing as she did so.

'He can fall in love with whoever he wants.' I continued, flicking my arms above my head and arching my back. 'And I'm sure it'll take more than one car journey to formulate a relationship.' Trish shrugged as she brought her phone out of her pocket.

'We should get going. At this rate we'll have run quarter of a mile before we need to head back.' She said with a begrudging smile.

'Do we have to?' I whined and Trish slung her arm around my shoulders, slowly leading me towards the door. 'I hate running.'

'I know. I hate running too. But it's one way to improve our fitness and we're almost certainly going to be tested on it for our evaluations. And at the rate we're going, I doubt we'd pass. Besides, Captain America said we have to get better.'

'He said I can call him Steve.' I said monotonously, picking up my bag and dragging it across the floor.

'Did you faint with shock?' Trish teased and I rolled my eyes, a smirk involuntarily finding its way to my lips. 'Anything exciting happening today that I should be aware of?' I shook my head.

'Not today. But some of the Brazilian embassy are visiting on Friday. That'll be interesting.'

'Why? I thought they were just coming for a look round?' Trish mused, opening the door and walking out in the corridor.

'They are. But it was one of the terms established between them and SHIELD, that they'd be the first to see any new developments within SHIELD. That's what the dance is for too. We're trying to win them all over so that another Sokovia Accords doesn't happen again.'

Trish was silent for a moment as we moved down the corridor, the unspoken words between us clear. Finally, she spoke. 'Why would that happen again?'

I gave her a stern look for a moment. 'You can't tell anyone.' She nodded.

'There was a rescue mission a couple of weeks ago. A very influential American politician had been kidnapped and was being held in Brasilia. A few of the Avengers were tasked with getting him out. Iron Man. Captain America. Black Widow. There was a lot of destruction caused. The people who took him were mercenaries. They had no regard for any collateral damage. People died. Houses and businesses were destroyed. And the Brazilian government are saying that they knew nothing about it. But that's impossible. They're trying to wriggle away from taking the blame or responsibility for it, by the dragging the Avengers and SHIELD down with them.'

'That could turn ugly.' Trish said gravely and I nodded. Political alliances were difficult, especially when both parties had masses to loose and people wanted answers.

'Yes it could.'


	13. Doce

An hour later, after I'd returned from my 'run' with Trish and had been allowed to fall into my chair and not move for a little while, I was waiting in a corridor that I hadn't been in before. My hair, stringy with the sweat I'd released, was tied up in a rough pony tail and I leaned against the wall, the concrete cool against my hands.

Trish was stood opposite me, her equally sweaty hair piled in a frizzy bun on top of her head. The rest of the agents were dotted around the corridor, all wearing casual, work-out clothing. We'd been told to meet in this corridor but that had been all the detail we'd been given.

I had absolutely no idea what we were doing apart from the fact that it didn't look like more combat training or running laps, which could never be bad news in my opinion.

Ryan's black eye had blossomed so that know his face was dotted with purple bruises even more than my own. He wasn't talking to anyone and kept his eyes firmly fixed on the wall, quietly seething.

The corridor was long and narrow, with the walls and floor painted a crisp light grey. There must have been around 30 doors on each wall, each door tall and metallic with a number painted on the front. There was no indication of what was waiting behind each, no prompt as to what we could expect. And this was terrifying.

Suddenly, a set of two footsteps echoed down the corridor and I looked up to see Steve and Romanoff, both looking rather stern. Everyone straightened up and Trish shot me a look, her eyebrow raised. I shrugged. I didn't know what was going on either.

'Today we're going to be building on yesterday's lessons and teach you the art of interrogation.' Romanoff stated and I grinned.

Finally something I had training in and didn't have to feel terrified about mucking everything up. Finally, something I could do.

Once you reached a certain level, the UN dished out basic interrogation training for everyone. Then, a few more levels up, you received more in-depth and detailed training because the information that you handled was now more dangerous - there was more at stake and more lives on the line that would die if you broke down in an interrogation room.

Steve then began rattling off room numbers, one room for each agent, where we supposed to go in and wait until we received further instructions. I kept one ear on Steve's voice and another on the words I was speaking to Trish, who was looking slightly terrified.

'Don't talk to them.' Trish's eyes widened slightly as she drew them away from the floor. I squeezed her shoulder in what was hopefully a reassuring way as I heard the words 'Hamilton, room 7.'

'What?'

'Don't talk to them. Don't say anything. I'm willing to bet that this is some sort of test. So don't say anything. Even if the question seems harmless, just keep quiet. Sit there and ignore the awkward silences and just stay quiet. They'll try and psych you out. But don't fall for it. Stay quiet and you'll be fine.' I said, as quietly and confidently as I could.

Trish let out a long, slow breath and nodded. 'I'll try.' She murmured as Steve told everyone to make their way to their room.

'You'll be great.' I promised, detaching my hand from her shoulder and shooting her another smile before heading towards the room I'd seen marked 7, weaving through agents and avoiding their curious gazes.

I didn't know what to make of the agents in my group. I liked Christina and didn't like Ryan and loved Trish but apart from that, I didn't know what to think. I didn't know anything about the rest of them and everyone seemed to be very reluctant to talk about their personal lives and their skill sets and their files hadn't been uploaded onto the system, meaning I couldn't conduct one of my research sessions.

This left me feeling extremely wary of every single one of them. This was SHIELD. It was competitive and breeding ground for conflict. And I didn't know who to trust. Which meant I could trust no one, aside from Trish and myself.

Steve and Romanoff hadn't moved from their positions at the end of the corridor, their hands clasped behind their backs and their sharp eyes watching each of us as we made our way to our rooms. Looking back to see Trish nervously step inside room 11, I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

I didn't know what I had been expecting but it certainly hadn't been this: a small, cool room furnished only with a table, two chairs and a mirror.

My arms prickled with the cold as I sat down at the table, feeling as though I was about to sit an exam and my own words bouncing back in my head: ignore the awkward silences, just sit there and keep your mouth shut.

Making myself as comfortable as I possibly could, my eyes trailed over every surface in the room to give my brain something to do. Facing me was a large mirror. Or at least, what looked like a mirror but I guessed was actually a window and I would have bet my favourite pair of Louboutins that there was someone stood behind it watching me.

Suddenly the door opened and Steve walked in, wearing a warm smile and the shirt that Trish had affectionately nicknamed his righteousness shirt and that a number of gossip magazines had made famous, saying it complimented his eyes perfectly and made him the most eligible bachelor in the country.

I could see why the magazines had gone so crazy - he certainly looked very attractive. I might even go as far as saying hot. And I considered for 0.1 seconds to completely ignore all of my own advice and talk, because of the wholly honest and sincere smile that he now wore.

But I wasn't going to do that. My job was to get through this interrogation, show my worth and then get back to work.

Not submit to the charms of Steve Rogers.

'Can I sit down?' He asked gently, gesturing to the chair opposite me. I nodded, smiling back at him with equal warmth.

If he thought that this was just going to be another easy interview, then boy was he wrong.

'I'm just going to ask you a couple of questions, if that's alright?' I nodded again, plastering the same sickly sweet smile across my face. It was much easier to get through an interview - at least in my opinion - if it was clear that all of my behavior was an act rather than remaining in solemn silence.

'So, Regan, where do you live?' That was a stupid question. He could check my SHIELD file for that. I didn't reply, just kept smiling at him with the same blank smile on my face.  
He paused a moment, his eyes searching my face. He could stare at me all he wanted with those 'sparkling blue orbs' but he would have to try harder than that.

'Okay.' He continued after a brief pause. 'How about your pets. Do you have any?'

Another stupid question. I'd told him the answer to that this morning. It warranted no reply.

He searched my face again, as though I was suddenly going to break my façade and talk. His smile looked to falter slightly as they flickered back down to his hands. It must have just clicked in his super soldier brain that it was going to take more than his special blue shirt to get me to talk.

Suddenly, before I could even comprehend it, a sneeze rose up in the back if my nose and broke the cold silence that I'd been feeding off.

Shit.

The sensation left me reeling and I blinked several times before looking up at Steve, who was staring at me with an amused smirk in his face.

Oh, shit. That was my façade broken. And now I was blinking like a fucking deer in the headlights.

'How about your family? Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

As I stared back at Steve, swallowing my nerves and watching the amused look on his face, I began to realise just what this whole exercise was about.

All these questions were things that could jeopardize an agents life: your address was as good as handing your enemy your head on a platter and your pets and your family were both things that could be used against you to hurt you. And if you went spilling this information to everyone that asked then you'd be dead in no time.

He continued with these questions for the next 10 minutes and I remained in silence for the entirety, my self-satisfied smile remaining on my lips and cursing every second for sneezing.

Steve finally left the room, tucking the chair under the table as he stood. I allowed myself to relax, the smile instantly disappearing from my face and my head lolling back against the chair.

Steve had looked genuinely upset that I hadn't answered any of his questions. Or maybe that had been an act as much as my silence had. Or rather my silence until I'd sneezed during my attempt to prove myself as an interrogation master.

I sat alone for an unknowable about of time, the chair stiff against my back, the tiredness weighing on my eyes and the chill of the room biting my arms.  
I began to wonder how Trish was dealing with everything, my heart breaking as I remembered the look of panic that had been on her face. I knew that she would be able to tackle absolutely anything physical that SHIELD threw at her but I was the one with the interrogation training.

In reality, I was probably only waiting for 30 minutes but it felt like longer as I kicked my feet up onto the table.

The door opened again but instead of being greeted with the kind smile of Steve I found myself staring into the sharp, cold eyes of Natasha Romanoff: master assassin, ex-Russian spy and bringer of nightmares.

At least that was what Trish had said.

And I knew that while it may have worked on Steve, I wouldn't be able to simply ignore her and wait for her to go away.

I was tempted to try though...

Romanoff didn't make a move towards the chair opposite me; she remained standing, leaning against the door with her eyes glaring into my skull and her arms folded.  
The atmosphere around Steve had been light, warm, joking - he'd made no attempt to be anything other than kind and friendly and I knew that I could just stay quiet and he'd go away.

Romanoff on the other hand unsettled me. She would be able to see through me as though as was made of glass. The air was sterile and flat and dangerous. This woman wasn't afraid to pull punches which meant I couldn't be either. It was kill or be killed, just in a more metaphorical sense.

'Regan Hamilton.' She murmured suddenly, my eyes fixed on her as she slowly began to walk around the room. Her voice was calm and soft yet frightening, as though she was mocking every word that she was forced to spit from her mouth. 'Little Agent Hamilton.'

That wasn't an insult. That was simply an observation. I was, in scientific terms, a midget. I'd lived with those nicknames for the entirety of my life and I wasn't about to get annoyed by them now. She'd have to do better than that.

I stared back into her eyes, not breaking her gaze, as I kept my feet on the table and my hands clutching the chair. It was the fact that I couldn't read her and didn't know what she was going to do next that set me on edge so much.

'The clever, naïve little girl that wants to make the world a better place.' Okay, naïve stung a little bit. But I would take clever as a compliment - even though it sounded like venom dripping from her mouth - and wanting to make the world a better place was hardly something to be embarrassed about, was it?

I still didn't speak, still keeping my eyes pinned on her as she leisurely leaned against the mirror/window.

'The girl that no one likes or trusts because her brand is hardly an advocate for peace.'

Now we were getting to the nitty-gritty. Everyone's preconceived ideas about me were coming out and I was simply going to bask in them.

I wasn't going to let her get to me. That was what she wanted.

'The girl who is Fury's adorable pet hamster who he needs to protect from the big bad Avengers who would happily see her thrown out the air lock. Even Rogers. Just because he smiles at you, doesn't mean he trusts you.' Her voice suddenly turned sharper, harsher, as she spoke about Steve.

What exactly was their relationship like? It wasn't romantic, I'd gathered that much from my short time at SHIELD. So what was it? Did they have that fiercely protective sibling relationship like I did with my brother and sister? That seemed likely.

And she really wasn't telling me anything I didn't know. I knew the Avengers didn't particularly like me though the air lock seemed a little harsh.

And Fury's adorable pet hamster? He hadn't struck me as a hamster kind of guy.

I lazily re-crossed my feet, showing just how unaffected I was by her words, as she pushed away from the wall and stalked closer to me.

Our close proximity made me nervous to the point where I almost ran out of the room. But I needed to keep a lid on it.

'If she gets within touching distance, then I'll do something about it.' I resolved.

'The girl who no one knows anything about and she won't tell them. Why don't you tell me about yourself, Regan?'  
'Non.' I said immediately, in flawless French. She was trying to rile me up. Well, two could play at that game. 'Nein. Nei.' I quickly got bored with languages and started saying no in various accents, as many as I could think of, without ever breaking eye contact with her.

I swore I saw her inhale sharply before speaking again. Maybe I was beginning to get to her...

That was before she stepped within touching distance of me and I shot up out of my chair as though it was on fire. I saw a smirk appear on her lips as I brushed some hair from my face and tried to control my breathing that I hadn't noticed had been steadily getting more rapid and was now at the point where I was bordering on fainting.

Romanoff didn't speak for a moment, just observed my new behavior, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she stepped back slightly to allow me some more space.

'How about your love affair with Rogers?' She asked after a moment, her voice barely more than a whisper. 'You're seducing him for your own gain because little Regan Hamilton doesn't happen to be a natural when it comes to boys.'

I found myself colouring slightly as her eyes burned into mine, as though she could see into my past and all my failed attempts at romance and useless crushes on boys not worth my time. But I wasn't going to let her reduce me to a childish little girl.  
'You can hardly talk about romance.' I said suddenly, finding my voice and slowly turning in order to keep my eyes matched with hers as she walked around me. 'Your conquest with Dr. Banner is now a classified SHIELD file.'

I cringed at my own words. I hadn't wanted to get personal and to reduce her, a woman who I admired and was terrified of in equal measure, to her romantic encounters but she had forced my hand. She wasn't holding back and I had to rise to match her.

She suddenly stopped moving. Her eyes were cold and dark, burrowing into mine and I felt my blood grow cold. I hated myself. I hated myself. And from the looks of things, she hated me too.

'Just answer the question.' She murmured, her eyes suddenly shifting away from mine. Was I winning?

'Non.' I repeated, rebuilding my unbreakable façade. I was getting to her, I was sure of it.

'What are you so afraid of?' She shouted suddenly, slamming her hand down on the table so hard that I jumped backwards, my heart racing. 'People hating and distrusting you more than they already do? I don't give a shit about what Fury said. You're starting at the bottom of the pile and no one gives a damn about you. No one. So I don't know who you're protecting.'

The air was fizzing now, with a palpable tension that I could touch. She was angry and pissed off. And I was feeling tired, the intensity of the situation dragging me down. But I had almost finished.

'Sam sat with me at lunch.' I murmured, sounding like some pathetic school girl, but that was all I had. Even Romanoff smirked, as if she knew too that I sounded pathetic.

'You need to start working your ass into overdrive if you ever want even a tiny chance of building a well for a desolate African village or shutting down a nuclear bomb, if that's what you're so fucking desperate to achieve.' She shouted, the anger clear in her voice. I didn't move, my eyes fixed on the floor and my fingers tracing along the table top.

I was forcing the breath in and out of my lungs, reminding myself that it was only a practice. It wasn't real. Nothing was real. And I was winning. I was winning.

I slowly looked up, her eyes blazing and her fists clenched. She looked like a panther ready to pounce, ready to tear me to shreds. And no would one care, if her words had been true. No one would even bat an eyelid. No one would -

I raised my head, cautiously sitting down in the chair and resting my shaking legs. I could feel the tension, as though it were in the room, like a figure or an animal ready to attack, ready to kill.

'Non.' I breathed, my voice clear and confident which contrasted greatly to the shaking ball of nerves that I was inside.

\- Ooh that was intense! What did you guys think?


	14. Tredici

'Well that was horrible.' Trish exclaimed, throwing herself down into the seat next to me as I protectively grabbed at my muffin that was in danger of falling off the table. 'I wasn't emotionally ready for that.'

'Tell me about it.' I murmured, swirling my fork around my plate of pasta. We'd been dismissed for lunch twenty minutes ago and while I hadn't seen Steve or Romanoff again in that time, I had seen several rather vulnerable-looking recruits.

'I ignored Cap like you said and it made me feel like the world's worst, most horrible human. And I'm sure that shirt has some kind of magical properties.' I smirked as she said this, thinking back to our earlier conversations.

I hadn't given much thought to Steve, my mind deciding to focus on my terrifying time with Romanoff instead. Because that was the way it decided to work, unfortunately.  
And while I was also sure that his shirt contained some kind of magical properties, I didn't feel like the worst human for ignoring his questions. He had to know that I was going to have some form of interrogation training and wasn't going to spill every single tiny aspect about my life. That was the way I'd been trained and that was the way I worked when confined to a tiny, cold, metal room.

'It definitely does.' I agreed. 'It has hypnotic powers.'

'And how intimidating is Romanoff?' Trish declared loudly, stabbing a piece of chicken with her fork. 'Like, I was close to crawling under the table. She's just mean and scary and - ' Trish trailed off as she ran out of words and shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth.

'If I ran into her on a dark and stormy night, I'd definitely give up my nation's deepest secrets.' I said. 'You can tell why she's used by SHIELD to interrogate anyone who's of any remote use.'

'Did you answer any of her questions?' Trish asked me curiously and I shrugged.

'I don't know if you'd consider it answering, but I gave her a piece of my mind.' I admitted slightly smugly and Trish grinned, her eyes widening.

'Now that sounds like a conversation I want to see. I answered some of them just to try and get her to leave me alone. Not the really personal ones, just the basics.'

'They always go personal if you give them anything to work with. It's to try and rile you up so that you let something slip. Or so that you just give up and tell them everything.'

'It sounds exhausting being an interrogator.' Trish mused, as I brushed some hair from my face and I nodded heartily. 'I don't know how people can do it all the damn time.'

'It's all about getting into someone's head. It's technical stuff.' I said, thinking back to all of the training that I'd received in the UN.

'Well, I daresay you couldn't let that 6 month program go to waste, could you?' Trish said with a smile, reading my mind. 'They'll be hiring you as an interrogator in no time.'

'Oh yeah.' I scoffed sarcastically. 'I sneezed in Cap's face and insulted Romanoff's love life.'

'How are you still in SHIELD?' Trish responded, equally as sarcastic and I rolled my eyes, a playful smile on my face.

'I know, thanks for all the support.'

I quickly checked the clock, shoveling down a few more forkfuls of pasta. I was determined to keep on top of my other work that I needed to complete within SHIELD and was still busily introducing myself to all the embassies in New York and arranging meetings with them all.

I had had a scheduled meeting with the Ambassador of the Czech Republic until an hour ago when they'd cancelled on me and quickly arranged another meeting in two days time. Everyone around was allowed to move and shift and change and it was my job, it seemed, to run after them all and pick up the pieces.

A sudden noise in front of me drew my eyes away from the clock and I looked up to see Sam slapping his tray down on the table and sitting down opposite me.

'This is becoming a regular thing.' I said, quirking my lips into a smile.

'Hey, I'll go if you want. I just thought you might like to hear some of my gossip - ' He responded with a smirk.

'And what gossip would that be?' Trish asked him, shooting me a puzzled look from the corner of her eye and I stared back at her equally confused.

'A little birdie told me that you two did quite well on the interrogation front. Especially a certain Agent Hamilton.' He said in a conspiratorial whisper with a grin on his face. Trish cheered, looping her arm around my neck and giving me a friendly squeeze.

'If I spilled everything that I knew about the goings on in SHIELD and the UN, I would have been beheaded or shot  a very long time ago. And tell them it's nothing personal - ' I added quickly, my eyes sneaking to the forms of Steve and Romanoff who were sat at their usual table and I'd been trying very hard not to make eye contact with.

'Whatever Nat said, don't take it seriously.' Sam dismissed with a wave of his hand. 'Ignore whatever she said. She's just trying to get a reaction from you.'

I knew this. It was the basic rule of interrogation. I'd been told it a million times. But I still didn't like the fact that she'd been able to extract such a strong, emotional reaction from me. I needed to try harder.

'Cap on the other hand is feeling pretty beat. Not many people answered his questions. He thinks there's something wrong with him.' Sam joked. 'He thought he looked pretty friendly and approachable but - '

'They're not the first two words I'd use to describe him.' I said with a smirk, looking over at Trish who was wearing a similar smirk. Sexy fossil were definitely the first two that came to mind.

'But then that was the whole point of the test - ' Sam continued. 'To see who would know to keep their mouths shut and - '

Suddenly a couple of agents shouted Sam's name and he turned round to give them a wave. They shouted something I couldn't hear, then winked at Trish and made a noise which I assumed was supposed to be their attempt at cat-calling but sounded more like the guy had a throat infection.

'Just ignore them,' Sam stuttered and I noticed that he was turning a faint shade of pink. 'They're just joking.' Trish didn't say anything, just smile and stared down awkwardly at her empty plate.

They hadn't even noticed me. Not that I was any prettier than Trish, much the opposite really, but whenever one of us got complimented the other usually did too. They obviously hated me so much that they couldn't even focus long enough on my body or my breast size which is what usually happened.

Sam and Trish must have noticed my silence because I saw Trish shoot Sam an urging look.

'Come on, Rae. It's nothing personal. Everyone at SHIELD is nervous around the new agent. It comes with the territory. Recruits don't feel like a part of the group yet, they're just a novelty. But once you get that badge, everyone becomes a bit wary. When I joined - '

'When you joined, everyone already liked you because you were Cap's running buddy and what's good enough for him must be good enough for SHIELD.' I muttered, my voice angrier and stronger than I had intended it to be.

I sighed, massaging my temples and closing my eyes. 'Sorry. I didn't mean that.' I apologized and Sam smiled.

'It's fine. And I don't know if you could call me his running buddy. I was running and he was doing some weird magic trick that allowed him to run faster than me.' He joked kindly and I rolled my eyes at his lame attempt to cheer me up.

Trish on the other hand knew exactly what to do as she handed me my uneaten muffin.


	15. Vierzehn

After finishing my lunch, I managed to spend almost an hour in my office completing some work. I was still reeling slightly from my encounter with Romanoff but I tried to push that to the back of my mind and focus on my work: replying to an email from the Japanese embassy and mentally preparing myself for my next class which I knew was basic gun control.  
But I couldn't.

And I knew I was being absolutely pathetic. No, worse than pathetic. I needed to get a serious grip on myself. No one else was freaking out like I was. Romanoff hardly even spoke to me. But the words she had said had lodged themselves in my skin like shards of glass, pricking and scratching at my insides and I couldn't ignore them.

I had been kidding myself that joining SHIELD would be a walk in the park. That by the end of my first week I'd have an entire address book full of new friends and exciting career prospects and a clear path ahead of me for the next 50 years.

And while I did have exciting career prospects and that being a UN Ambassador was pretty much everything I'd ever dreamed off, the reality seemed a little less shiny when I only had two people that I could consider friends.

And the way she'd managed to read me so quickly still startled me. Yes, she'd probably read my SHIELD file which contained a couple of details about me but there was nothing there about my dating history or my motivations for working at SHIELD. So as well as my own insecurities, it was the knowledge that she was so utterly brilliant and maybe the smartest woman I'd ever been in a room with that unsettled me.

By the time I'd contemplated my fate a bit more, and completed my email, it was time for my second class of the day. I'd remained in my fitness clothes and as I closed my computer and tidied my desk, I realised that I was going to be spending the vast majority of days wearing rather unflattering lycra clothing and aching from multiple areas of my body. And I was going to have to get used to it.

I hurriedly checked my emails, seeing that the basic gun class was taking place in one of the gym rooms. I grabbed my bag and my bottle of water before I left my office, briskly walking up the flight of stairs that would take me to the correct room.

I knew which room I needed without even having to cross-reference my timetable. This particular gym room might as well have been called an armory. One entire wall was laden with every single type of fire arm you could ever imagine. And, understandably, in order to access the weaponry you needed a retina scan.

I quickly scanned the group of agents already present, picking out Trish who was kneeling down to re-tie her shoe lace. I slowly crept up behind her and gently tugged her ponytail, causing her head to shoot up and her eyes to sharpen. Her gaze softened when she saw that it was me and rolled her eyes.

'I've no idea why you're in basic gun control.' She said in greeting. 'You should be in advanced guns or something.'

'Well, I've no idea why you didn't pick advanced combat considering you used to teach martial arts.' I replied, smirking.

'Because I haven't done it recently. And I might be a little rusty.'

'Exactly.' I responded, looking round the room at the other agents.

I hadn't known what advanced guns had really meant and I didn't know how advanced I really was, in comparison to some of the other agents. I hadn't wanted to make a massive fool of myself and I'd reasoned that going over some of the basics and improving my technique could do nothing but help me in the long run.

'Yeah, but it's not like you can forget how to shoot a gun. Are you confused about which end the bullet comes out of? Because I can show you that.' I rolled my eyes again and turned to face Trish who was smiling.

'I know. But I wanted to give myself a little re-cap.' I said firmly.

'It's okay, really. I know why you did it. It's because you wanted to spend more time with me. I am kinda cool - ' I suppressed a chuckle as Barton entered the room and the chatter in the room fizzled out.

I hadn't really seen Barton much around the compound, nor had he been in many of our training sessions. But then, there were probably many things that went on at SHIELD that I didn't know about and Barton's whereabouts were one of them.

He'd probably been in Azerbaijan following an arms dealer or something.

As he stopped to stand in front of us all, his hands clasped behind his back, it suddenly hit me why he and Romanoff were such good partners. They both had the same intimidating, demanding presence and physique that you knew, while he looked harmless, was very capable of beating you to a pulp.

'For those of you who don't know me, I'm Agent Barton and I'll be leading the majority of your weapons training.' He explained, his voice cool and calm. 'You'll be using a selection of different things over the next couple of weeks and you'll be expected to master two of them and it will be these two that you are tested on in your evaluation.'

Trish shot me a slightly worried glance at the word 'master.' That meant no messing around. I had to be able to use two weapons to master-assassin standard in order to pass my evaluation, which I was near desperate to do.

I was going to have to put the hours in.

I also noticed that the entirety of the group of agents were silent. There was no shuffling around or muttering like there had been when Romanoff had been leading the class. And there was next to no difference between their demeanors.

Of course, there was one very obvious difference. And the fact that some of the agents seemed to find this to be a test of worth made me very angry.

'Today, we're starting with guns which I assume you all probably know. Seeing that you're a big group I'll be moving those who show particular talent into an advanced guns class with Cap.' I could feel Trish's eyes boring into my head and an involuntary smirk rose to my lips.

I didn't consider my skills to be anywhere near advanced and I seriously doubted that a walking armory would disagree with me.

'I've already matched each of you with a gun based on your height, hand size and weight. I want you to go and find your gun and then stand in front of the targets. And I'm sure I don't need to say anything about health and safety. The bullets are plastic but that doesn't mean they won't hurt if they hit you.'

That sounded rather menacing. And judging from the faces of some of the other agents, it wasn't just me who was feeling slightly on edge from Barton's words.

The group all hovered in front of the wall of weapons, each waiting to see who'd be the first to reach out. I was desperately trying to locate the gun with my name on, but being able to see above the heads of the rest of the agents was proving difficult.

I suddenly saw it, a small gun with Hamilton stamped across it. I pushed through the crowd, ignoring the grunt of the literal giant who'd been stood in front of me. I carefully pushed it out of its bracket and quickly took my place at the target next to Trish's.

The only thing that I knew about guns was how to shoot them - makes and models and calibers took up no room inside my brain  - so looking down at the weapon in my hand, the only things I knew were that it was smaller than Trish's and was loaded. The weight gave it away.

It took me a moment to realise that what I was holding was a deadly weapon, rather than just a tool used for training. And it was a rather brave move, at least in my opinion, to give a class of what could be gun novices an actual gun, even if the bullets were only plastic.

It had been a while since I'd held a gun and surprisingly, I wasn't feeling all that nervous about it. Perhaps this displayed more about my personality than I cared to admit.

The rest of the agents all took up their place in front of the large circular targets that were positioned against the wall. I stared into the middle, focusing on nothing but the red dot in the middle until I felt myself going cross-eyed.

Guns made me feel slightly...not-myself.

But I needed to persevere, considering the guns would probably the only weapon that I could actually master.

'Okay. I need everyone listening. I'm going to show you the basics first. And I don't care how much you already know, you need to watch and listen. Alright?' He waited a few seconds as he walked into the center of the room, where everyone could see him. The silence digged into me harder than it should, amplifying the racing of my heart.

I'd shot a gun a million times before. I could do this.

***

We spent the next half an hour going through, in alarming detail, every tiny little thing that needed to be considered when shooting. It wasn't just holding the gun, it was stance and eye line and your breathing and I was beginning to second guess whether I knew anything about shooting at all.

It was clear that while I was having doubts, Barton could be called nothing else other than an expert. He somehow had the capability to run through the list of everything we needed to consider before pulling the trigger in a matter of seconds, and then hit the bull's-eye every time.

And guns weren't even his thing.

'We're going to start on still objects and then move onto moving objects when you get the hang of it. Some of you will pick it up quicker than others but I don't want anyone to give up. This is the difference between you being dead and you being alive.'

Well. That was one way of putting it.

I turned towards the target, a chorus of gun shots already exploding around the room. I saw a couple of agents wince and clamp their hands over their ears. The noise was definitely something that took a lot of getting used to. But I'd heard it so much that I was immune now.

Trish looked to be trying seriously hard to block out the noise as she took her aim. I focused on my own target, feeling the gun in my fingers and controlling my breathing. I forced myself to block out any sound that wasn't that of myself, Trish or Barton.

The metal felt foreign in my fingers, reminding me of just how long it had been since I'd fired one. And this was also evident in the first two shots that I fired which barely hit the outside of the target, never mind the center.

I let out a frustrated sigh and rested a moment before angling my gun again.

'Stance, Hamilton. You can't shoot like a 6 foot so stop trying to!' Barton's voice shouted from behind me and I begrudgingly lowered my aim.'  
He didn't have to rub it in my face that I was small, did he?

'I can't do this, this is shit.' Trish complained, shaking her arms out. 'My arms are killing me.'

'That's about the half of it.' I muttered, taking aim again and letting out a deep breath. Come on, Regan. Come on, Regan.

I hit the target. Not exactly straight down the middle, but not far off. I shot again and again and again, all of them finding home on the outskirts of the red circle.

'That's just showing off.' Trish complained good-naturedly and as I lowered my gun, I felt a surge of pride and happiness. I could do it. I could fight through the noise and the pain and I could do it.

'Come here.' I stepped behind Trish, her frame towering inches above my own but I stretched up onto my toes. 'You need to relax a little bit. Your fingers'll cramp up and then you won't be able to do anything. And your feet are a bit too far apart.'

'Tell me again why you're not in advanced guns?' She groaned as she corrected her positioning and stretched out her fingers.

'Because you're kind of cool.' I said with a grin and Trish had to smirk, her eyes sparkling with the warmth that I'd grown to recognize over the years. 'Now, come on. Try again. I know you can do it.'

I stood back and watched Trish try again. The bullet skirted across the top of the target. She fired again, the bullet hitting the middle ring and she burst into a grin.

'See! You can do it!' I cheered. 'It just takes practice.'

'You're improving Manning, well done.' Barton suddenly appeared behind us and nodded towards Trish's target. 'Let's have a look, Hamilton.' He turned to me and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I knew I could do it. I now just had to prove it.

I took hold of the gun, remembering every single thing that Barton had said and everything I'd ever been taught about shooting. Stand tall. Be brave.

I could do that.

I fired four bullets and three of them lodged into the outskirts of the central ring, with one of them landing straight in the middle.

Yes. Fuck yes.

I could see Trish beaming next to me and I turned to face Barton, who had his arms folded and his eyes were staring at the target. What would he say? Suddenly I was terrified. I'd mucked my stance up, hadn't I? I was still shooting like a 6 foot man. Oh, shit. Shit -

'Very good.' He said briskly, not showing any sign of a smile. 'Keep practicing.'

Barton was definitely a man of few words. But I didn't even think about his bluntness. I was still riding cloud nine because I'd actually hit the target. And so had Trish.

The rest of the class seemed to fly by in no time at all. Moving targets were 100% more difficult than stationary ones but by the end, I'd had a good go and Trish had managed to hit a few.

I hadn't even looked out for Ryan.

Before we were dismissed, Barton called us all together. His expression gave nothing away. What did he want?

'I'm going to be forwarding some of you to the advanced guns class which takes place in an hour. These are the people who showed some exceptional skill. But you all need to keep practicing, in classes and in your spare time. So, the names: Jameson, Carlyle, Bakhari, Hamilton - '

My breath hitched in my throat. What? Really? Was he serious? Of course he was serious, he was never anything other than serious. I didn't even listen to the rest of the names.

'See, I told you.' Trish nudged me, with a smirk on her face. 'Now you get to spend more time with Cap, oh sorry, Steve. Aren't you a lucky girl?'

'Yes, shooting guns. How romantic - ' I teased, not able to contain the smile on my face. I was good enough. I was. Barton, one of SHIELD's best agents, thought so. 'Please come with me.'

'What? I don't want to interrupt your romantic time - '

'Please, Trish. I don't know any of these people. I haven't even spoke to them. You can sit there and stretch and practice martial arts. Please - '

'Why? Cap is going to do anything - ' Trish continued.

'That's not the point.' I pleaded. 'Please.'

'Fine. But I don't know what you're worried about. You should be jumping at the chance to spend more time with Steve - ' She exaggerated his name and fluttered her eyelashes and I rolled my eyes.

It wasn't the fact that I was meeting with Steve that was worrying me. It was the fact that I was going to be in a class with several people who were more than capable of blowing my brains out. And, chances are, they all hated me.

So I wanted moral support.

\- What're your thoughts?


	16. пятнадцать

After Barton dismissed us, I spent an hour in the gym and forced myself onto each of the gymnastic apparatus, working through some basic maneuvers and remembering the technique that I'd been taught a decade ago. And while it was difficult at first, the hour seemed to fly by and by the end of it, I was exhausted and dripping in sweat.  
I then changed into my work attire and returned to my office, completing some important emails and phone calls and generally trying to get my SHIELD life in order. I'd been severely neglecting my role within the HR department and decided to use this time to get to grips with the SHIELD filing system and all of the employee records.

I felt as though I was on my own little planet when I was in my office because it was so quiet and secluded that I had physically had to go out to find other people, apart from Trish. And while this may have been an absolute God send on the work front, because there were absolutely no distractions, it did mean I felt a little lonely sometimes.  
But there were people out there with much bigger problems that being slightly lonely so I was determined to just crack on with work.

That was before my phone buzzed.

Sighing, I fished around in my bag and brought out my phone. It was Trish, asking where the hell I was. That was peculiar. She knew I was working, didn't she?

Why? I replied before turning back to my email.

Cos I'm stretching and trying not to stare at the sexy fossil. in his  tight t-shirt. And you're not here. 

What? What did she - Oh. Shit. Oh shit.

Oh shit!

I jumped out of my chair, hurriedly closing my computer and kicking my heels off. As I'd only been added to the advanced guns session a few hours ago,  it hadn't been included as part of my timetable. If I'd dug through all my SHIELD documents and found my online calendar, I probably would have found it but I much preferred to keep a written diary instead of -

I was stalling. I needed to be in that advanced guns class now. In fact, I needed to be there five minutes ago.

Without thinking, I grabbed my gym bag that contained my now only slightly damp gym clothes and sprinted out of my office, my bare feet slapping against the ground and the map of SHIELD that I'd established over the last couple of days flashing up in my head.

If anyone had seen me, they would have considered me a fool but I didn't have time to consider other people's opinions right now. I was going to be skinned alive. That was what I presumed SHIELD did to recruits who were late.

I moved into a fast walk as I approached the busier part of the SHIELD compound, a few curious eyes lingering on me but I didn't stop for a second. I had never been late for anything in my life. Nothing. Not once.

And I didn't particularly like the feeling. It made me feel sick.

I turned the corner and entered the gym room. There were 11 other recruits who were all sat at individual tables, a selection of guns laid out in front of them. Steve was speaking to them, walking up and down the length of the tables and in the far corner was Trish who was in a deep lunge.

I didn't have time to acknowledge my nerves and my anxiety because I needed to participating in the class now. Earlier than now, in fact.

Steve stopped mid-sentence and turned round to face me and I noticed that, like Trish had said, his t-shirt was rather tight.

But that wasn't important at the moment.

'I'm so sorry I'm late.' I stuttered, trying to arrange my thoughts into some coherent order. 'I got carried away with some work and didn't look at the time.'

Well, Steve didn't look mad. But maybe he was more of the quietly angry type?'

'It's alright.' He insisted and I could have fainted because of his words. 'Just don't make a habit of it.' I nodded sincerely. He had to enforce the rules somehow. I was just glad my head was still attached to my body.

'Of course not.' I promised, my heart rate beginning to lower and my breathing beginning to normalize.

There was something of a - sparkle in Steve's eyes as he nodded at me, but I put this down to a lack of oxygen in my system rather than anything else. I swallowed the lump in my throat, noticing that Steve was still stood silent in front of me. I raised an eyebrow at him which seemed to release him from his chain of thoughts.

'Just...get yourself ready then.' He said quickly, before turning back to the group of recruits.

I turned around to see Trish wink at me as she practiced swinging her leg in a kicking motion. I placed my gym bag down on a bench that lay at the side of the room and peered over my shoulder at the other agents as I roughly tied my hair up into a ponytail.

Despite the fact that the agents were supposed to be listening to Steve, all of their eyes were pinned onto me. Now they probably disliked me for the fact that I got 'special treatment.' Which I didn't because everyone probably disliked me more because of my already established positon at SHIELD.

The fact that I was being stared at did pose a problem as to how exactly I was going to get changed into my gym gear. I didn't care about Trish - we'd shared a dorm at college so she'd seen me naked plenty of times.

But I did not exactly want to go showing 11 random strangers and Captain America my body.

...And I had to change my bra.

Telling myself that I needed to stop being stupid, I decided to screw it. I needed to stop being pathetic. You're just getting dressed, Rae, not doing a strip tease. Just get dressed.

...Oh why did I have to wear trousers today?

Stuff them.

I hurriedly unbuttoned my trousers, my fingers fumbling over the clasp, pushing them down my legs and stepping out of them.

I knew everyone was staring at me. I just knew it. And if I caught them, then I'd have them for sexual harassment show them why I was in advanced guns.

I could some whispers coming from behind me as I rooted through my gym back to find my leggings. My ears strained to decipher any of the words.

'Hamilton's putting on a show!' suddenly reached me, the voice evidently male, and I triumphantly pulled out my leggings and slipped them on.

Oh, I would show him a show if that's what he wanted.

It seemed I'd caused Steve a bit of a problem too as now his recruits were focusing on me rather than on advanced guns. And as he ordered them to focus and to concentrate on what he was saying, I looked up to see Trish giving me a thumbs up.

This was why I had needed the moral support.

But now it was time for the fun part.

I attempted to angle my body as best I could from the recruits so that they wouldn't catch a glimpse of anything as I re-dressed myself in my sports bra and loose top.  
Gritting my teeth, I pulled off my shirt and unclasped my bra. The minute I did this, I heard a chorus of hushed wolf-whistles from behind me and had the furious urge to punch someone.

But I needed to get fully dressed first.

I blocked out all noise that wasn't my hurried breathing. I just needed to do the clasp and sort the buttons and -

'I'd consider tapping that...' someone whispered conspiratorially behind me. 'If she wasn't such a little bitch...' Well he could fuck off.

'SCHOFIELD! STAND UP!' Steve suddenly bellowed which such viciousness that I nearly jumped out of my skin. 'That was completely and utterly inappropriate. I want an apology to Agent Hamilton and then I want 100 press-ups. Now.' His voice was hard and stern, nothing like the gentleness I'd been greeted with this morning.

Yeah Schofield. That's what you get for being a dick.

'But, I - ' I heard Schofield protest as I hurriedly pulled on my top and saw Trish smirk. I pulled on my trainers and took my place behind a spare table as Schofield continued to protest.

But Steve wasn't having any of it.

'I don't care. 100 press-ups now. Or it'll be 200.'  

Complaining every step of the way, Schofield slowly maneuvered onto the floor and started completing the press-ups, still cursing under his breath. Meanwhile Steve approached me, his face softening slightly.

'Right, you've really not missed much. We warmed up with some basic shooting practice and going over technique with some stationary and moving targets and now we're going over the functions of different parts of a gun. You'll get a different theory test than the other recruits who haven't done this class and this'll be on it so...' He smiled slightly and I made a mental note to remember every word that came out of his mouth in the next ten minutes.

I'd always been a bit of a goody-two shoes at school and I hadn't changed since - I was going to do well on that theory test if it killed me.

'Yeah, okay.' I nodded, pushing a large tuft of hair away from my face before I pulled the tie out of my hair and re-tied it into a much neater ponytail. Steve nodded and turned his attentions back to Schofield who was completing his press-ups.

'Hurry up, I haven't got all day.' Steve pressed harshly, holding his arms behind his back.

'I've finished.' Schofield said, pushing himself onto his knees and running a hand through his long hair. He just looked like a cocky bastard... Steve quirked his eyebrow.

'I was counting, unlike yourself. You only reached 70. Keep going. And double speed.'

Cursing Steve a whole manner of colourful names that I knew were going to come back and bite him later on, Schofield continued as I looked over at Trish who was in some kind of balancing position.

She caught my eye, a mischievous smirk on her lips which I returned eagerly.

Schofield nil. Steve Rogers one.

***

Over the next thirty minutes, we went through every single possible feature of every single type of gun that I was sure had ever been invented. The knowledge that any part could come up on my theory test made me feel slightly sick but I was determined to push past that fact.

We'd then all been given a basic, yet fairly large, gun and Steve had talked us through it, step by step, how to take it apart and then how to put it back together again. All of the different parts felt heavy and clunky in my hands as I followed Steve's instructions, his words ringing in my head as I did so.  
We were then told to do it again, this time without his help.

The first time I did this, I was the last of the recruits to finish. My fingers were aching and I'd broken a nail trying to fit the barrel back into place. But still I done it, with Steve's instructions still ringing in my ears like an extra heartbeat.

And even though I was struggling, every one else was also struggling too. Even the ones who I was pretty sure worked with guns for a living, would fumble with a piece or spend much too long debating which piece went where. But I was trying to focus on my own performance, rather than anyone else's.

Then I did it again and again, all under the watchful eyes of Steve. At first his razor sharp gaze had made me nervous, the way he'd linger by my shoulder as I gritted my teeth in an attempt to re-build it faster, the way he'd gently point something out for me to remember or to keep in mind without actually telling me I'd done something wrong, which made it all the more nerve racking. But, on my fourth rebuilding of the gun, I'd grown used to his methods of calm observation and had learned to ignore them.

Mostly. I mean, it was slightly anxiety-inducing to have Captain America staring at you.

After the fifth time, Steve said we could stop and I tiredly placed the gun down on the table. My fingers were on the verge of throbbing and I was sure I would have the mental pictures of the gun's inner workings and Steve's instructions burned into my brain for the rest of eternity.

But we hadn't finished, it seemed, as Steve then brought round a black blindfold for us all. I picked it up off the table, the thick black material scratchy beneath my fingers, and I looked over at Trish for her to mouth the word 'kinky' at me.

I snorted with laughter. A rather loud snort and I quickly attempted to cover it up with a cough, looking intently down at the floor to try and hide my embarrassment. It was almost like I was afraid to be human, to show my true personality, from the rest of my SHIELD counterparts because SHIELD was a important government organization that didn't have time for me to banter with my friends...right?

'Your gun might be the only weapon you have available to you on a mission and you need to know it, inside and out. You need to be able to take it apart and put it back together with your eyes shut. So, you're now going to attempt to take apart and then re-assemble the gun, all the while wearing the blindfold. Then, you're going to fire all the bullets towards that target but take your blindfold off for this as we don't really want to kill Agent Manning.'

Trish looked up suddenly from the position she was desperately trying to hold at the mention of her name and smirked in my direction. I'd certainly be having words with someone if a shooting exercise resulted in one of the agents getting shot themselves.

'You'll be competing against each other and the fastest two agents will be able to spend extra time on their physical development skills tomorrow alongside one other agent of their choice, instead of participating in the 10,000 meter run we're doing tomorrow.'

My blood ran cold. Me and Trish wouldn't be able to survive a 10,000 meter run. We'd get trampled into the mud like flies.

Trish was wearing the same expression I was. One of sheer terror and I knew what I had to do. I had to get into the top two. I had to. There was no other option.

It was either win or die.

Pretty much...

'I'm going to give you a minute. Anyone who takes over a minute will be going back to Agent Barton. And at the moment, they're practicing using maces.' My blood ran cold for a second time. A mace would squash me flat. And from the stone-cold look Steve was currently giving me, he knew this as well.  
No pressure then, Rae.

'You need to know your weapons like the backs of your hands. They should become second nature. They should be as easy as breathing. So, are there any questions?'  
Yes, can I leave now?

No one spoke. 'I'll give you a minute to think about it.' Steve said, looking down at his watch and I felt my throat close up slightly.

Come on, Rae. You've done way worse things than this.

But that wasn't the point.

I looked down at the gun in front of me, my hands jittering with nerves. I began running through the motions that I was going to do in my head with Steve's voice playing over them like a soundtrack. But moments would be blurred, like I was looking at them through water so without thinking what I was doing, I took the gun apart and then put it back together again, trying to cram the instructions into my head.

I could feel the rest of the recruits eyes on me, as well as Steve's, but I didn't care. I needed to get it back into my head. I needed more time. I needed to -  
'Alright, your minute starts in 3...2...1...go!'

I jumped into action, my heart thumping so loudly in my chest that I was sure everybody else in the room could hear it. I forced myself to keep my breathing under my control, my hands acting before my mind did as I repeated the instructions, as Steve had said, as though they were second nature.

I didn't have time to look beside me to see how my fellow recruits were doing, nor to see if Steve's eyes were wholly focused on me nor to see how Trish was cheering me on. I just knew that I had to do well in this.

And as my hands frantically starting to rebuild the gun, the ending in sight, the next steps clearly laid out in my brain as though they were written down on paper...  
'I'm done!' A voice suddenly shouted out.

Fuck.

'20 seconds left,' Adrenaline was now fueling my body. I needed to come second. I needed to finish. And I could finish. I knew I could. I knew this gun now like the back of my hand. And I could, I -

'I'm done!' I called triumphantly, causing Steve to look up from his watch and latch his gaze onto me. He looked down at my re-built gun sitting proudly on my desk and nodded, the shadow of a smile on his face.

'Alright, that's 10 seconds left. Come on, you're almost there.' Steve encouraged and I let out a breath that I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

In front of me, Trish was beaming and I wiped my sweaty palms on my leggings, trying to remain calm. I was second. And looking beside me I could see that Bakhari - a man I presumed was from either Iran or Pakistan - had finished first.

'Okay, time's up!' I had completely zoned out in my moment of bliss but I saw that all the other recruits had also finished re-building their guns in time which meant no one was going to get pummeled with maces anytime soon.

What a shame.

'That was a pretty good job. But Agents Bakhari and Hamilton finished first and second so they'll be excused from tomorrow's running practice and will be allowed to take one other agent with them.' Steve explained, looking over to Bakhari for his choice. He remained silent for a moment.

'I pick Montes.' He said, with a heavy accent. Steve nodded and turned to look at me.

'And Agent Hamilton?'

I suddenly picked up on the fact that he called me Agent Hamilton, instead of just Hamilton. I mean, yes, he was supposed to call me Agent Hamilton because that was my title within SHIELD but no one else seemed to consider this rule too seriously. And -

'Agent Hamilton?' I realised that I'd been staring into Steve's eyes as though I was a love sick fool as I had considered his use of the word Agent.  
Stupid Regan.

'Manning.' I said confidently, trying to regain my composure as I shot Trish a subtle wink. She looked as though she was about to burst with happiness.

Next to me, I heard someone mutter a few words and the whole atmosphere in the room shifted. I didn't need to look to know it had been the same guy who had been checking me out earlier and the one who now did not look upon me or Steve particularly favorably.

And the feeling was very mutual. He was a jerk and had a big nose.

'Excuse me?' Steve repeated, trying to polite but the strain being clear in his voice. I hadn't heard what had been said but I was guessing it hadn't been very pretty.

'You're obviously favouring her. I get press ups for saying something yet she gets nothing for turning up late. That's - ' He started, his voice dripping with arrogance. Or maybe that was just what I could hear.

'What you ‘said’ was a offensive and derogatory comment.' Steve interrupted, stepping forwards. 'Agent Hamilton had a legitimate reason for being late because she is working at SHIELD alongside her training and has multiple things to do. You had no excuse for being so disrespectful. You're dismissed.'

The atmosphere was so thick and awkward, I could feel it literally sticking to my clothing. This whole dispute was basically about me and I wasn't used to being the center of attention. I didn't particularly like it.

The rest of the recruits all jumped from their seats and left the room, big nose being the last to leave and giving Steve a dirty look as he did so.

Steve let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair and I swallowed deeply, feeling as though I should say something before I left the room. Trish was staring at me, her face curious.

'I didn't have a legitimate reason for being late.' I admitted slowly, my fingers trailing across the table as I stood. Steve raised an eyebrow at me and shook his head slightly.

'That doesn't matter - ' He mumbled quietly.

'Yes it does. I've caused a rift between you and - ' I struggled for the agents name and left it by the wayside, determined to figure it out later. 'the guy with the big nose. And all because I lost track of time.'

Steve remained silent for a moment and I could feel Trish's eyes boring into my head thinking what the hell I was doing. I was doing what helped me to sleep at night.

'Are you asking to do press-ups or...' Steve trailed off with an amused smirk on his face and my eyes suddenly grew wide.

That was cruel. That was more than cruel. It turned out that Captain America did indeed have a dark side.

'Preferably not press-ups because I have the upper body strength of a six year old,' I admitted jokingly. My upper body strength was one of the things I was going to have to work on in the gym if I wanted to improve my gymnastics.

I was going to have to do a hell of a lot of side planks...

'Pull ups then.' He said with a smirk and gestured behind me where, as I turned to look, some basic fitness equipment was located including a pull up bar.

'I don't think that's necessary.' I stuttered, looking back at Trish for some kind of help. Was I really about to be forced into pull ups by Captain America?

'You walked into this Rae.' Trish said with a giggle and Steve nodded.

'You really did.'

'I can't believe I'm doing this...' I moaned, rolling my eyes.

'You shouldn't had said anything then. And you're the one who needs the extra practice. Come on, you owe me 15 pull ups.'

I stared at him, looking into his eyes that were sparkling with humour. So Steve Rogers could be funny when he wanted to.

I just wished it didn't have to be at my expense.

'Fine! 15. I can do that - ' I said nonchalantly, knowing that 15 was going to take a lot of effort from me.

'Come on Rae!' Trish cheered - she could always be counted on to be my own personal cheerleader - and I refrained from holding my head in my hands.

Was I really having a private pull up lesson with Captain America?

Yes. Yes I was.


	17. 十六

I ended up spending 20 minutes in the gym, with Steve coaching me through my pull ups and me mentally cursing myself for sticking my foot in it.

But then again, I did need to improve my upper body strength. And Steve happened to be a pretty good teacher. He was encouraging and motivating yet strict enough that I actually managed to achieve something by the end of our short session.

The next day was more of the same: shooting practice with Barton and Steve, cramming in emails and phone calls between lessons and lunch breaks and my daily run and gymnastic session.

Me and Trish were both pretty poor at running and the maximum we'd managed was 3 miles before we had to submit to a walk. But we kept at it and I knew that it was only a matter of time until our bodies stopped fighting it and we improved.

It also helped that we were both excused from the 10,000 meter run that the rest of the recruits were forced to endure. I would have ended up in the hospital wing again. And so would Trish.

On Friday morning, I was awoken by a shrill ringing which at first I assumed was my alarm. But as I groggily stretched, rubbed my eyes and rolled over I saw that it was in fact my phone rather than my alarm.

I strained my eyes in the darkness, trying to make out the time. 3:04 am.

What the fuck?

Feeling a little more on edge and wondering who the hell was texting me at 3 in the morning, I tiredly reached out for my phone. Was it my mom? Or Eve, my sister? Or Trish?

No. It wasn't.

As I cringed back at the blinding light, I quickly read the text that had been sent from the secure SHIELD number.

If I wasn't at the SHIELD compound and stood outside room 48 in 30 minutes then my career was over.

If it had been any other number I would have laughed, thrown my phone onto the floor and gone back to sleep. But this was SHIELD. They didn't muck around.

Fuck.

I rolled out of bed, pulling off my pajamas and pulling on the first items of clothing that I came across: a gray sweater and black leggings. I pulled my hair up into a bun and grabbed a bag, carefully folding the clothes that I laid out last night for the Brazilian embassy's visit.

I swung this over my shoulder, pulling on my sneakers and grabbing a pair of heels before running out of my bedroom.

I assumed that this late-night/early-morning wake up call was for some crazy training regime that was supposed to test how well we worked when we were sleep deprived (and I'd struggled through lots of these during my time at the UN).

I hurriedly padded down the stairs, throwing a look into the kitchen where the dogs were all still asleep in their beds. Sometimes they slept in my room but the majority of the time they preferred to have their own bed, which was much like myself.

Seeing that they were all alright, I ran out of the door and quickly locked it behind me and ran to my car.

If I drove fast, I'd be fine. Like, fast fast. Bordering on the speed limit fast. But I'd be fine. I'd get there. I'd totally still have a job by daybreak.

Hopefully.

Hurtling out of my driveway, I stormed down the road and looked at the clock on my dashboard. 3:09 am. Not bad.

What was really so important that it had to be taught at 3 in the morning though? Especially on the day that the Brazilian embassy were visiting and I had to be alert and awake.

But now I was running off 4 hours sleep and had to partake in whatever torture SHIELD could concoct to put me through my paces. I'd end up sweaty and tired and miserable and in no fit state to make a good impression of anybody.

And, shit, I'd forgot my make up bag.

Mercifully, the roads were almost deserted and I rode the line of the speed limit all the way to the SHIELD compound. There were no cops on the road too which was a blessing as I may have been being slightly illegal but it was all in the name of SHIELD.

They better have a damn good reason for waking me up at this hour and forcing me to break the law.

The SHIELD car park was also rather empty, though certainly not deserted, because some unfortunate agents were forced into working the night shift.  
3:21. I was making good time.

Now I just had to find the room.

Room 48 was located in a part of SHIELD that I hadn't been in before and had no idea as to what went down in this part of the compound.

I didn't see any more of my fellow recruits while making my way there - I didn't see many agents period - so I couldn't ask them if they had any more information than I had and by the time I found the room, I was feeling jittery, tired and miserable.

'Hello?' I knocked on the door, my voice croaky and pressed my head to the door to try and figure out if there was anyone inside. It was quiet.

Eerily quiet.

The corridor was non-descript; there was nothing to indicate what I was supposed to be doing other than the fact that it wasn't a gym room.

What the hell was going on?

I looked behind me to see if any agents were milling around or, if I could be so lucky, Trish would appear.

She didn't.

I changed tack and walked ahead a little, trying to see where the corridor led to. It was deserted. There were no other agents, no recruits, no -  
Suddenly, I was submerged in darkness and my reflexes kicked in. I kicked out behind me, swinging my arms and stamping down.

Without my sight, all of my other senses were amplified. I could hear a voice behind me, maybe two. Someone grabbed me around my waist and attempted to clamp my arms to my sides. I fought back, kicking and twisting and writhing in my captors grip.

As I stamped down on what I assumed was my captor's foot, I heard a shout of protest. I paused. I knew that voice. I was sure I did. It was -

'Barton? What the fuck are you doing?' I exclaimed, identifying the voice of Agent Barton. Was kidnapping me really part of the exercise?

'I'm sorry about this.' He said, his voice slightly strained as I relaxed ever so slightly in his grip. What did he mean? What was he going to -

***

Coldness brushed at my skin. My arms were locked behind me; my legs tied uncomfortably to the chair that I was sitting on. The air was silent. Nothing hurt, aside from my wrists, ankles and a slight throbbing in my head.

I opened my eyes.

The room was around the same size as the room I'd used for interrogation training and was similarly furnished; there was a table in front of me and a so called 'mirror' on the wall.  
Blinking a few times and allowing my eyes to get used to the dim light, I squirmed around in my seat and peered down at my feet. They were wrapped in duct tape, pinning my ankles to the legs of the chair. And while I couldn't see my hands, judging from the metal that was biting into them, they were locked in handcuffs.

And sitting on the table was a note, scrawled in an undeniably male hand that I immediately knew was Barton's because Steve wouldn't write like that.  
Get out

'Was this all really necessary?' I shouted, my voice sounding a little dry and croaky. As I expected no one answered and I sighed, shuffling around in my chair.

My eyes felt heavy and the entirety of my body felt as though it was made of lead; sleep deprivation made you drowsy and disorientated and not perform at your best which was what I had apparently correctly assumed this test was all about - to see how well we could cope.

The handcuffs didn't look to be budging and while I knew I would be able to break out of them, I really needed to be able to see what I was doing for that.

'You do know that I'm supposed to be meeting with the Brazilian embassy today, don't you?' I shouted again, looking around the room for any cameras or security systems. 'Are you sure you want to do this now?'

There were none, or at least no visible ones.

And, again, there was no reply. Only my exasperated voice.

'Fine! Suit yourself!'

There was nothing else in the room, aside from the table, chair and mirror apart from myself. So I was going to use my own skills to get myself out.

Feet first.

Duct tape wasn't indestructible and if I kept shifting and moving and straining against it, it would eventually break. I started wriggling my feet as much as I could, throwing my feet forward against the tape. And while nothing happened for a while, the pressure began to loosen.

'Come on, come on - ' I urged, my ankles beginning to sting but I gritted my teeth and dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands, as finally the tape tore and my feet were free.  
I took a few moments to regain a regular breathing pattern before turning to the task of freeing my hands.

It didn't take me long to realise that I was going to have to do more than simply sit there and wriggle. I knew that the handcuffs were probably industrial strength and it didn't help that I had the upper body strength of a child.

I could always batter the door down but that wouldn't be particularly graceful and, if we were pretending this was  a real hostage situation instead of Barton locking me in a room, then that would alert the enemy which was the last thing you wanted.

And if I was currently being watched and marked on how I handled the situation, I didn't want to make such an amateur mistake.

I needed to get my hands in front of me and unfortunately, I didn't have double-jointed shoulders. This left me with just one available option.

I carefully clambered up onto the chair, my legs shaking slightly from lack of use. I took a deep breath. This was a basic gymnastic tumble that 10 year olds could do.  
But I hadn't done it this far up before. And if I didn't land it properly I could injure my ankles and my knees.

I didn't have a choice though.

Mentally crossing my fingers, I propelled my body up over the chair, locking my arms and knees in place. I landed securely, my heart racing and my hands now in front of me.

I deftly managed to work the handcuffs from my wrists; they were beginning to cross the line from being uncomfortable to painful.

Almost dizzy with happiness, I turned towards my final obstacle.

The door.

Piece of cake.

This was the sole reason I wore bobby pins in my hair.

I patted my head, trying to locate the dozen or so I'd shoved in this morning in my attempt to leave the house as quickly as possible.

There were none.

I double checked, my brows furrowing and my inner confusion growing. I had put them in this morning, I was certain of it. So that meant...  
Barton really was a cheeky bastard, wasn't he?

He was nothing if not thorough and I immediately wondered if he'd removed them out of precaution or because he knew I'd be able to pick the lock with them.  
I also felt a tad uncomfortable that he'd been rooting around in my hair while I'd been unconscious...

I also felt extremely glad he hadn't been that thorough as to check my shoes. I quickly unlaced my boots and collected the dozen bobby pins that I kept hidden under the sole. I reasonably should have discarded the shoes a while ago as they were falling to pieces but this compartment was the perfect place for hiding things.

Taking two, I crouched on the ground which made me sit at eye level with the lock. I then set to work and while I was a little rusty, it took me a couple of minutes until I heard the satisfying click of the door opening.

I slid my feet back into my boots and tucked some hair behind my ear. I didn't know what to expect when I opened the door. Was there more to the test? I couldn't be sure...  
I slowly eased the door open, every hair on my body standing on edge. Was it booby-trapped? Was there something I was missing? Was -

But as I looked into the corridor, I was met with the very un-terrifying sight of Steve, Romanoff and Barton all stood clutching a tablet which I presumed gave them visual access to the rest of the recruits.

'Congratulations, you're the first out.' Steve said with a warm smile and I nodded, my gaze sliding to Barton.

'Sorry,' he said with a slightly apologetic shrug and I bit my lip.

'Was it really necessary at 3 in the morning?' I asked, rubbing my eyes and leaning back against the wall. Steve opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. 'I know, I know, sleep deprivation messes with your system and you wanted to see how we handled it.'

Steve looked surprised as I said this, but he didn't say anything.

'Your bags are in your office.' Romanoff said without looking up from her tablet screen. Or maybe I just hadn't seen her look up.

'And my bobby pins?' I prompted, glaring over at Barton again.

'They're in your office too.' He said with a small smirk.

'You know, some of the recruits aren't going to know how to get themselves out of a locked room. This test isn't really fair.' I said, thinking of Trish who had absolutely zero training on picking a lock or breaking out of handcuffs. And while I knew she'd give it a good go, she'd ultimately have to give up.

'We know. We're going to leave them all for another 20 minutes and then let them out.' Barton explained.

'How long was I in there?' I asked curiously, having noticed the absence of a clock. This was to make you lose track of all sense of time and place.

'From the time you regained consciousness, about 15 minutes.' Steve said, though I noticed his voice changed a little as he said 'consciousness'. Had he known Barton was going to knock me out?

I would have pondered this more if the incoming thought of my meeting with the Brazilian embassy weighing on my mind. I pushed myself off the wall, straightening up and stretching my back out.

'There's a pull out bed in my office that's got my name on it, so I'll see you later.' I said, the thought of catching a few more hours of precious sleep filling me with joy.

'You did good, Hamilton.' Barton called as I started making my way up the corridor and I was sure I heard him mutter something else but my sleep-deprived brain was too fuzzy to make it out.


	18. Dezessete

All the translations will be at the bottom of the page if you're looking to understand some Portuguese!

I managed to scrape together a few more hours of sleep, nestled on the slightly uncomfortable pull-out bed in my office, before I forced myself to get ready for the impending visit of the Brazilian embassy. I'd met with representatives a million times before but there was something about this time that filled me with a deep-rooted dread.

The fact that this was my first official outing as SHIELD's UN representative carried a lot of pressure and esteem that I needed to live up to. I also needed to prove to all the agents who doubted my loyalty that I was a trustworthy and perfectly capable agent.

A perfectly capable agent who'd had 5 hours sleep and felt like she'd been hit by a bus.

While I got dressed and snacked on the apple and sultana granola I'd got from the canteen, I ran through every tiny little fact that I knew about SHIELD and its prestigious history. I wanted to be able to shower Brazil with not only opinions but rock hard facts as to why SHIELD was an incredible organization.

And, if I was being perfectly honest, the majority of my points focused on Agent Peggy Carter because the woman had done everything.

At 7:45 exactly, just as I was straightening the blue blazer and black pencil dress that I'd decided to wear, the door to my office swung open.

At first I thought it was Trish, who I'd been trying to get into contact with for several hours with no success, but it turned out to be Hill who was clutching a clipboard and looking rather tense about something.

'Are you ready? They're due to land in 10 minutes.' Why they even needed to arrive by plane in the first place was completely beyond me, as their HQ was merely 30 minutes down the road. But I wasn't going to question their means of transport when we really needed to gain their friendship.

 'Yes, I'm sorted here.' I said, straightening my necklace and following Hill out.

We didn't talk as she led me through the SHIELD compound, my eyes gazing around at the hundreds of agents milling around me. The lump in my throat and the jittering in my stomach was growing stronger with every echo of my heels against the concrete floor.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

Come on, Rae. Everything is going to be fine. Nothing can be as bad as that time with the Chilean ambassador.

I mentally cringed at the memory and a small smile rose to my face. I had this sorted.

'The main objective of today is to show that SHIELD is an extremely efficient organization and to show off all the good work that we do here. And, in the process, to repair the relations between us and them. Do you understand?' Hill asked and I nodded as she held a door open for me and I was immediately hit with a gust of wind.

Even though it was technically them that were in the wrong, for kidnapping a politician and everything.

We walked out onto the landing pad that was scattered with a whole variety of SHIELD issue aircraft. 'The Director has also made the decision to keep Mr. Stark completely out of this because he feels that the Brazilians won't appreciate his...humour.' Hill said dryly as we weaved our way between the planes.

I suppressed a chuckle. From the little contact I'd had with him and everything that I knew from his file he could certainly be very volatile.

And that was an understatement.

Stark definitely wasn't my best friend but he was one of the biggest assets that SHIELD had, both financially and physically. But I was wasn't going to go against a direct order from my superior.

'You and Rogers are going to be showing them around for most of the day so - ' Hill trailed off as she caught sight of my slightly puzzled expression. 'Did I forget to say? I paired you up with Rogers because he's the most well behaved out of all the Avengers. We think he'll give the best impression.'

I slowly nodded, letting this information. It wasn't that I had anything against Steve, quite the contrary really. But I had just thought I was going to be doing this on my own. Now I had someone else to contend with.

'Do any of them speak Portuguese?' I enquired, as Hill brought me out onto a flat stretch of concrete. I was pretty good at Portuguese but was hurriedly running through some of the phrases I'd need to get me through the day.

'Some of them only speak Portuguese.' She replied bluntly. 'That's why you're on this job.'.

As we approached the landing pad, I spotted a figure waiting and I quickly identified this as Steve. He was stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing a smart shirt and trousers rather than his usual superhero ensemble.

I knew that Trish would be annoyed. She wanted to see him in his stealth suit.

'Hey,' I said in greeting as I stood beside him folding my arms, staring up into the sky for any sign of the oncoming aircraft.

'Hey.' He replied, a warm, if slightly shaky, smile on his face. 'They're due any minute.'

'How many are coming?' I enquired again.

'15.' Hill said, brushing some loose hair from her face. 'Fury should be out in a moment to greet them and then you're on your own. But if you need anything, just give me a shout.' I nodded and shot Hill a smile as she began to walk back towards the base.

Me and Steve stood in silence for a moment, the only sounds being the voices of the agents around us and the heavy groaning of machinery.

'I'm not really used to this.' Steve said finally, awkwardly looking over at me. 'I'm never usually involved with diplomacy. At least, not like this.'

'Just...keep smiling.' I said, thinking of any constructive advice that I could actually give him. It had just become second nature to me over the years even if I didn't really know what it was that I did.

'I can do that.' He said, grinning at me and I rolled my eyes.

'If they ask you a question and you don't know the answer, then just make something up. Try to show SHIELD in the best light that you possibly can or we'll have bigger problems on our hands than just losing favour with Brazilians.'

'What do you mean?' Steve asked curiously. I had a feeling he already knew the answer.

'The Avengers will have a target on their backs. And I daresay you've other things you'd rather be dealing with.'

At that moment, two things happened. The incoming roar of jet engines appeared overhead signifying the arrival of the Brazilian embassy and the heavy thud of purposeful footsteps behind signified the arrival of Fury.

He was dressed in his usual black ensemble and didn't speak as we watched the plane land and I tried not to be blown off my feet by the gusts of wind. I was a quivering wreck of nerves and as the door slowly slid open and the representatives - all men I noticed - trickled out, I felt Steve's eyes on me.

I had this handled.

'Welcome gentlemen, to one of our New York bases. We're so glad you could be here today.' Fury said, sounding more cheerful than I'd ever seen him and he went round and shook each man's hand.

They were all dressed in similar dark blue suits and all had a look about them which showed at least some Brazilian ancestry. A couple of them were older than I had expected, looking to be well into their 60s, but the rest were relatively young.

And relatively good looking too.

As Fury started on his spiel about the facilities that they had access to, I spotted a handful of the representatives paying much more attention to me than they were to Fury. And that attention certainly wasn't wanted.

Oh, today was going to be a good day, wasn't it? I could just feel it...

Fury then introduced me and Steve to the representatives and ran through their names. I was determined to keep them all at the forefront of my mind as it would surely be a recipe for disaster when I started calling Pedro Paulo.

'These 5 gentlemen only speak Portuguese,' Fury murmured to me and I nodded.

'That's no problem.' I said smiling, turning to the representatives. 'Bem-vindo à nossa base de SHIELD de Nova Iorque. Eu sou o Agente Hamilton e este é o Capitão Rogers e vamos mostrar-lhe as nossas instalações e responder a qualquer uma das suas perguntas.' I said, wincing slightly at how forced my accent sounded but no one seemed to mind.

Steve was looking at me as though I'd just announced I was secretly the queen of England. 'What? You know I can speak Portuguese.' I said hurriedly to him, as we led them towards the door.

His face softened slightly and he nodded, straightening up. 'You can take the five that only speak Portuguese and I'll take the other ten.' He said but I interrupted him.

'That's hardly even.' I said firmly. 'Why not split them as best we can? Or go round as one group? That way we won't be at risk of losing anyone.'

Steve swallowed hard and looked over my head to where Fury was struggling through some basic Portuguese. 'From the...looks that some of them are giving you, they don't have the most honorable things on their minds. And that's not diplomacy.'  

I wanted to laugh at his attitude but quickly remembered that this man had lived in the 40s for more time than he'd lived in the present and wasn't as clued up with how modern society worked.

'I'm flattered that you care so much.' I said gently, when in reality I'd become partly immune to any wandering glances I received. 'But I wouldn't have got to where I am today if I took notice of every sexist jerk that I came across. And I'm quite capable of handling the situation.' I explained firmly and Steve looked slightly panicked.

'I didn't mean to say that you couldn't - ' He said hurriedly and I smiled slightly.

'I know. And I can just insult them in Portuguese and no one will be any the wiser.' I said with a grin, already planning the subtle insults I could pull out if any one of them got too handsy. 'The plan isn't to split up, it's only to keep them away from Stark and to charm them and show them how dreadfully sorry they are for what happened and what a fantastic enterprise SHIELD is.'

Steve remained silent for a moment as we opened the doors for the representatives to file through and Fury was now throwing me a semi-desperate cry for help. He'd obviously reached the limit of his Portuguese skills.

'How long have you been rehearsing that speech?' Steve asked finally, looking amused and also baffled. I shrugged.

'I've used it on pretty much every member of the UN I ever met.'

'And does it usually work?' He asked again with a grin and I suddenly realised why the gossip magazines had such a field day when he smiled because it really could light up a room.

'Yes. I can be very convincing.' I joked with a wink, brushing past him and launching into a rapid conversation in Portuguese about the state of our security.

\- Welcome to our New York SHIELD base. I'm Agent Hamilton and this is Captain Rogers and we're going to be showing you around our facilities and answering any of your questions


	19. Atten

By the time it reached lunch, my immunity towards the wandering glances from the few perverse embassy members was beginning to fade.

Steve and myself had been showing them around all morning and for the most part it had gone well. We'd manage to keep away from Stark, which had reduced the amount of conflict, and I'd managed to remember everyone's name.

I'd also performed the samba that I'd been practicing for the last few days and it had gone pretty much without a hitch. And while I'd mightily enjoyed myself, I wasn't enjoying the look that the handful of embassy members had been giving me ever since: like I was a hunk of meat and they were starving men.

I'd been doing my best to ignore it and to continue rattling off the list of facts that I'd revised about SHIELD.

Because yes they could find me attractive, but when it got to the point that they're mentally undressing me with their eyes then it's reached the limit. And it was beginning to affect me.

In my annoyance, I'd began to feel a little uncomfortable and this meant that I slightly lagged in my Portuguese translations and was being much more absent-minded than I normally was.

I had a feeling that Steve picked up on my slight change in attitude too because he kept catching my eye and pausing to talk to me but I brushed him off.

I had it handled.

The embassy weren't expected to eat in the cafeteria so were given a separate room in which to eat, away from the bustle and chatter.

Clutching the sandwich and packet of chips that I'd brought from home, I couldn't bare to sit in the same room as them, even though I had made quite good friends with the oldest of the representatives Juan. He also had a dog, an elderly terrier, and we'd spent a good proportion of the morning talking about dog food.

I slumped down onto the floor, crossing my legs in front of me and taking a bite from my sandwich. I rested my head back on the wall and listened to the mixture of English and Portuguese that was being thrown around the room behind me.

I was actually quite proud of myself that I'd managed to keep up all of my Portuguese, seeing as it wasn't one of my most spoken languages. And it had given me an excuse to keep small talk with Steve to a minimum.

I'd never been very good at small talk, particularly forced small talk, and it was made even more awkward by the fact that we had to talk to each other. Avoiding each other for 6 hours simply wasn't an option.

And what made it even more awkward was the fact that Steve happened to be very funny. He might be goofy and a bit cheesy at times, but he was actually very pleasant to be around.

And now I was ruining the mood. Or rather, the four representatives who were bugging me were ruining the mood.

I'd last seen Steve heading towards the cafeteria when I was herding the representatives into their lunch room. He'd said he would be back shortly but I had no actual idea how long 'shortly' was.

To make matters worse, Trish wasn't around either. She'd finally responded to my message, saying after she'd been let out of the room, she'd gone home to sleep and then gone to the gym. She'd also said thank you to me for getting her out of the 10,000 meter run.

That had been for both of us. I didn't want my best friend being killed off.

All of this left me alone with my ham and cheese sandwich. But I didn't really mind. I was used to spending time on my own. And it let me think about what I was doing this afternoon.

So far, we'd covered the administrative levels, training rooms and a brief history of all SHIELD's missions in the last 5 years. Next we were heading for the laboratories to show all the research that SHIELD did.

And hope that no dangerous chemicals were involved that could burn someone's hand off.

I'd also been informed by Hill that Stark had a scheduled meeting with Fury from 1pm which she hoped would keep him out of the way. Of course, knowing Stark, he might not even go which would leave me with even more problems.

I just wanted the day to go smoothly. I desperately needed it to. Because the consequences of what would happen if it didn't were too dire to think about.

Brazil would possibly never co-operate with SHIELD ever again. And Brazil were an insanely powerful nation with wealth and resources.

I'd never be able to go on vacation to Rio ever again.

Finishing off my sandwich, I suddenly looked up at the purposeful incoming footsteps. At first I assumed Fury and prepared to jump to my feet. But it wasn't, as it turned out.  
It was Steve. Who was looking extremely confused as to why I was sat on the floor.

'Why are you sat outside the room on the floor?' He asked bemused, clutching a plate filled with salad and a bottle of water. Of course. Health nut. 'That can't be hygienic.'

I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh. 'I've dealt with worse. And for the record, I just felt like it.' My usually chipper and polite attitude had been completely replaced with one of a moody teen.

It wasn't an attitude that I particularly liked.

I didn't know why I didn't just openly admit that some of the representatives were making me uncomfortable. It didn't seem like the kind of thing you'd talk about to Captain America.

But then I had to remind myself. He wasn't Captain America, not really. He was Steve Rogers - all round nice guy who could help you with all of your problems.

At least according to one of the more savory gossip magazines.

Steve started at me for a second, his tall frame towering over my slumped form before he sat down opposite me, crossing legs and shooting me a small smile.

'Really?' He asked, his voice gentle and I cursed just how nice he seemed and how he was truly trying to understand my predicament. It wasn't legal.

I couldn't be grumpy at that, could I?

'Some of the representatives are being slightly...forward...' I said slowly, choosing my words carefully, and Steve's eyebrows instantly furrowed and his eyes narrowed. 'But I can handle it.' I finished quickly.

'I never said you couldn't handle it.' He said and we both paused for a moment, thinking back to the conversation we'd had this morning and I had to suppress a smirk. 'But they shouldn't be allowed to continue their behavior if it's making you uneasy.'

'It's not all of them.' I insisted, tearing open my packet of chips.

'That doesn't matter. Have they said or done anything?' He asked sharply and I shook my head.

'So I can't really do anything. Wandering glances won't cut it for a complaint, even if I am working for HR. And it won't make them very happy which is supposed to be what we're doing and re-building friendships.'

Steve remained quiet for a moment, eating his salad, before he looked up at me. 'That doesn't give them the right to do what they want.'

'I know that.' I said firmly. 'I can deal with them on my own.'

'Lady? Lady, are you out there?' A handful of voices started calling out and I instantly knew that the 'lady' they were referring to was myself. Steve gave me a sharp look but I ignored him, standing in the doorway with my arms folded.

'My name is Agent Hamilton.' I said harshly, staring at the three representatives who were staring towards the door and seemed to be the most likely perpetrators. I could feel Steve standing behind me and I instantly straightened my posture. 'And is there something wrong?'

'Could you do us a favour and send an e-mail? It's very important.' One asked and I didn't reply for a moment. What did he think I was, his secretary?

'No. I don't work for you and I'm not a secretary. I'm an agent of SHIELD and if it's that important I can give you the use of a computer.' I said flatly.

'I don't think you - ' He started, but Steve quickly cut him off.

'Gentlemen, it's time to continue the tour.' He announced, his voice polite and formal but judging from the way he was gritting his teeth it was a mask he was trying very hard to keep up.

'Stark's in a meeting with Fury until 2:25 so that should keep him out of the way.' I muttered to Steve as the representatives gathered themselves. 'But who knows if he'll actually stick to that.'

'He listens to Fury,' Steve murmured. I hoped for the sake of everyone that he really did listen to Fury.

'Vamos mostrar os laboratórios da SHIELD.' I said, choosing to speak in Portuguese to the 5 nice and not-creepy men who had come on the visit.

'And Agent Hamilton, I mean Regan...' Steve corrected with a blush, remembering back to the conversation we'd had the other day. 'Are you sure you're okay?'

It was nice that Steve was so concerned but his constant badgering was beginning to irritate me a little. I knew that he probably meant this in the best possible way but I wasn't a child; I could look after myself.

'Yes. I'm sure I'm okay.'

\- We're going to show you SHIELD's laboratories next


	20. Umikumaiwa

Despite our instructions being to show the representatives around as whole group, after only 30 minutes I found myself herding a group of them around the less secretive and world-peace-impending storage floors of the base, while remaining constantly on the coms with Steve who was showing the remainder of the representatives around some of the research facilities.

There were no biological weapons or top secret documents on this floor, which I was pretty sure I'd get shot if I showed them off to anyone, but instead some seized enemy vehicles with cool modifications and a couple of helicopters. And while it certainly wasn't my idea of fun, it seemed to be keeping the representatives interested.

The storage floor was dark and smelled strongly metallic on the account of all the storage containers that were piled up. It was difficult to keep track of everyone as they all separated in different directions so I was having a hard time answering all of their questions as well as make sure that they didn't touch anything they shouldn't.

I mean if they couldn't be bothered to listen to me tell them about all the security protocols and how the walls were made of reinforced steel, then why should I tell them?

I'd particularly kept my eye on the handful who had ordered me to send an e-mail for them earlier, who had unfortunately ended up in my group.

I figured Steve had pulled the short straw however as he had 3 only Portuguese speaking men in his group and, as far as I knew, no Portuguese speaking ability.

The older representatives had seemed to be rather less impressed than the younger members which was the opposite of what I'd expected. In fact, they seemed rather surly as I showed them the state-of-the-art machinery that SHIELD had access too while the younger members hurried around the compound.

It was like herding cats.

And I don't like cats.

There was also the small issue of a representative who had got it into his head that we were now best friends and insisted on following me everywhere. Whenever I walked he'd be right by my side, his hand grazing mine and his eyes fixed on me. He'd even touched my back as I'd paused to open a door back in the corridor for much longer than was socially acceptable.

It had crossed the line from being friendly to being borderline stalker-ish.

I'd told him twice to stop it and that I'd appreciate it if he backed off. But he'd simply grinned at me and commented some witty comeback, ignoring everything I'd just said.  
'No' wasn't synonymous with 'convince me' and I was debating whether I should scrawl this on his forehead in permanent marker.

Luckily I didn't have the 4 pedophiles following me around as well as they'd wanted to go and see the research facilities with Steve which left me 4 less problems to worry about.  
At least, that was until I heard the faint screaming of sirens overhead.

What the fuck?

'Steve? What's happening? Steve?' All of the representatives were now blankly staring at me and I swallowed the nausea in my throat. 'Steve?'

'You mean nothing is happening down there?' His voice sounded slightly strained and I shook my head before remembering that he couldn't see me.

'No.'

'The fire alarm and the sprinklers have been set off. I don't think it's a drill because we would have been told but - '

Suddenly, the room was filled with the deafening roar of an alarm. The entire floor was illuminated with blinding red flashing lights and as I frantically tried to gather all the representatives together, a sudden spray of freezing water started to rain down.

Fantastic.

The representatives all started shouting and panicking but I couldn't make out their individual voices over the echo of the alarm. Pressing one finger into my ear in order to talk to Steve, I mentally cursed myself for being optimistic.

'Okay, we've just got the message. We'll meet you up there.'

I knew the fire safety protocol like the back of my hand. Better than that, probably.

'OKAY, EVERYBODY GET A GRIP! Acalme-se!' I shouted, wrapping my arms around myself as the water began to seep through my clothing. 'There's nothing to worry about. We're going to make our way to the fire assembly point. Siga-me por favor.'

Begrudgingly, the representatives began to trudge after me as I hastily exited the storage room, locked it, and began to make my way up to the fire assembly point, stopping every few seconds to make sure everyone was still following me.

This was turning out to be quite a day.

My freshly washed hair was now hanging limp on my shoulders and my blazer and dress were sopping wet. As well as this, I had absolutely no idea what was going on. Like Steve had said, if it really was a drill then we would have been informed.

But that meant the fire risk was real.

I couldn't detect any sign or smell of smoke as I briskly walked up the three flights of stairs to the assembly point, agents hurrying past me. The representatives were all looking similarly sodden as the sprinklers continued to rain down and the nausea in my stomach began to grow.

They needed to have a good day, even my creepy stalker friend who still insisted walking far too close too me, and that was not what was currently happening.

I realised that he was murmuring something next to my ear and I instantly recoiled, my muscles freezing and my internal warning signs flashing in my head. What was this guy doing?

'Everything's going to be okay,' he muttered and I was instantly puzzled whether he was speaking to himself or to me.

'I know.' I said firmly, holding open a door and ushering the other representatives through. 'And if you keep touching me I'm going to report you to HR for harassment. And I'm in HR.'

I stormed past him, angrily squeezing some water from my hair but now feeling uncomfortable that he was behind me and I couldn't see him. He could attack me from behind. He could strangle me. He could -

I suddenly spotted Steve up ahead, struggling to calm down the group of panicking representatives. My head was banging and now I was irritated and slightly scared.

He looked up when I approached and I noticed that his hair was also soaked through and sticking flat to his forehead with his shirt and trousers discolored.

'What the fuck is going on?' I spat, the flashing red lights and deafening alarm doing nothing to calm my headache. 'Is it a real fire?'

'I don't know.' Steve answered and I thought I saw his eyes furrow slightly at my use of 'fuck' but it could just have been my tired mind playing tricks on me.

I frantically looked around at the agents rushing around us. This was the fire assembly point for any visitors to the SHIELD premises and Fury or Hill or another senior agent was supposed to meet us here.

'Have you heard anything from Fury? Or Hill? Or anyone?' Steve shook his head and I let out a deep, irritated sigh.

I felt a presence behind me and I didn't have to turn to know that it was my stalker friend. But I had bigger things to worry about right now. Even as I felt his hand touch the small of my back, I forced myself to swallow my complaints and my insecurities and to keep my mind on what was happening.

'Well, we need to find Fury. Because if it really is a fire then we need everyone out of here now.' I said confidently, noticing that Steve's eyes had narrowed and were focusing on a figure much taller than my own.

It was nice to know that he too disapproved of stalkers.

Suddenly, Fury rushed down the corridor and I instantly felt myself relax a little. Fury would know what was happening.

'It's alright, gentlemen. It's just a drill to make sure all our fire defenses are in operation.'

I felt my heart drop.

Excuse me?

'Agent Hamilton, could you explain to our Portuguese friends that everything is under control?' Fury said calmly, seeming to ignore the set of my jaw and the puzzled expression on my face.

So it was now acceptable to schedule fire drills without telling employees?

But as I explained in Portuguese that it was simply a drill and there was no threat, I noticed Fury hurriedly talking into his earpiece and the frantic look in his eyes.

He didn't seem particularly calm, seeing as it was only a drill.

I began to second guess his words. Was it really a drill? Or was that just what he'd said to keep up appearances? I knew that Fury wouldn't cover up a real fire - he wasn't that stupid - so had the alarms been set off manually? Had there been a security breach? Or a fault in the systems?

'We'll get you gentlemen sorted out with some towels and hot drinks and we're terribly sorry for any inconvenience.' Fury continued and Steve met my eye but I didn't react. My mind was still whirring.

What the hell was happening?

The hand on my back suddenly shifted further downwards and my resolve broke sharply, like a twig.

I'd had enough.

I swung around to face him, ignoring the passive look on his face, and socked him firmly in the nose.

I was lucky he was relatively short for a man otherwise I would have had to have resorted to other methods of deterrence.

The man let out a cry of a pain and a trickle of blood started to roll down his face. I was immune to the shouts and cries of the rest of the representatives. I didn't care. I didn't want him touching me.

'AGENT HAMILTON! MY OFFICE NOW!' Fury raised his voice to a level I'd never heard, firm and solid and unmoving.

What? How was this my fault?

Steve immediately began to intervene, explaining how he'd been harassing me but it was clear Fury wasn't having any of it, especially in front of guests.

'I don't care, Rogers. Hamilton, go to my office now! NOW!' There was no budging. Fury was scowling at me. The other representatives were fuming. And Steve was looking dejected, water dripping down his forehead.

I could feel my blood boiling.

I turned away without another word, my heels clattering down the corridor as I tried to block out the sirens and the freezing water and the sharp looks from other agents that were currently fixed on me.

I was now completely soaked to the skin and I could feel water beginning to soak through my clothes onto my skin which did nothing to brighten my mood.

How was it that I was reprimanded for his jerkish behavior? How was I to blame? He was the pervert.

As I turned the corner with my mind clouded with anger and frustration, I realised that Steve had been right - it didn't matter whether they were trying to make friends or not. That didn't mean they could treat everyone else like shit.

I was going to let anyone treat me like shit again.

\- Uh oh! What's going to happen next?


	21. Twenty

I sat slumped outside of Fury's office, curling my sodden hair around my fingers. Thankfully, the sprinklers had now been turned off so I stood an actual chance of drying off but Fury's words were still ringing in my ears and I was willing to bet my bottom dollar that it had not been a fire drill.

Something had happened. Something that even Fury hadn't been able to control.

I'd been sat outside his office for around 20 minutes, alone and freezing. I was still fuming, the anger and frustration still built up inside my brain.  
But I also felt like crying: deep, heaving sobs that would have dampened my clothing even more.

The knuckles on my right hand were red and swollen, the skin shredded and spots of blood leaking through. The throbbing pain had somewhat ebbed away but now I was just left with a visual reminder of the error of my ways.

I was more angry with myself than anything else. I shouldn't have punched him. I should be able to manage my feelings better. I shouldn't have acted out like that. It was my fault.  
I could still feel his hands sliding over my skin, foreign and unwelcome and cold. It still made me shiver thinking about it and feel a tiny bit sick.

But, only one thing was certain. I'd waved this, practically my dream job, goodbye.

And I'd only been a part of SHIELD for 5 days.

It had been a pretty decent 5 days, though. I'd received no biphobic comments, no `are you sure you're not just lesbian' or 'being bi just means you're greedy' comments which had certainly made a nice change.

Because, yes, I was very sure that I wasn't a lesbian and I couldn't help that I was attracted to both guys and girls.

Not that I would have changed anything because despite not having spoken to Sophie in a few days, I was still madly in love with her.

I could also boast about having met the Avengers in the flesh and I made a mental note to try and get some autographs before I was kicked out of SHIELD to show people.

A slight twinge of sadness shot through me at the fact that I wouldn't get to see Coulson during my short stint here, having met him several times at various conferences and immediately bonded over the fact that neither of us really wanted to be there.

It had also been great working with Trish for a week, even if it had been mostly been in grueling workout sessions or training exercises. And, even though I hated to admit it, I did slightly enjoy our morning runs just because I got to spend more time with her.

I'd also enjoyed the fact that I'd basically been self-employed in my week at SHIELD, with no one breathing down my neck and barking orders at me.

But there was no being my own boss back at the UN as I'd go back to reporting directly to Director Ross, not like that was what I was doing anyway.

I'd also have next to no control over where I was sent, which wasn't exactly the ideal situation.

There was a layer of employees within the UN that were more than humanitarian workers but weren't in charge of anything and that was where I currently sat. And while I loved my job, it gave me no control over my projects or missions. And control was something I craved.

At the very least I'd get to see my old colleagues again and in particular my two best UN friends Nim and Jared and tease them about their relationship. They were so cute it was like being in a real life rom-com.

That was, if I was actually allowed back in the UN.

Oh well, if it came down to it I could always go back to being an Air Hostess.

And knowing my luck, I'd end up serving Stark his champagne on his first class flight and he'd have kittens at the sight of me.

Speaking of Stark as I casually gazed up the corridor before propping my feet up on the coffee table in front of me, I realised that his meeting with Fury would have been cut short because of the abrupt interruption of the fire precautions.

I peered around the corner with my eyes dodging past the glass partitions to see indeed see Stark still sat in Fury's office, his feet similarly placed on Fury's desk and his cell in his hand.

The last face that I'd ever see at SHIELD, other than Fury's, would be the face of Tony Stark.

Oh, happy days...

Footsteps echoed down the corridor and I didn't even turn my head to look. This was my oncoming crucifixion, the end of my days, the day that I got barred from every government building in the world...

I raised an eyebrow, straightening up slightly.

Nope. It was Steve with a towel.

Hmm...

'I take it a missed out on the apologies?' I said in greeting, leaning back in my chair. Steve nodded, grimacing slightly. What did that mean?

'They took the guy over to medical. And you didn't break his nose. So that's...something...' He trailed off, the silence digging into my cold skin.

As though I'd actually been aiming for his nose rather than just trying to get him away from me...

He looked much the same, just slightly less wet, and in his hand was a grey fluffy towel. He met my eye and smiled ruefully, passing me the towel which I took hesitantly, before shoving his hands into his pockets.

'I thought you might need it.' He said suddenly, gesturing down to the towel which I was fiddling with.

No shit, Sherlock. I looked like a drowned rat.

'My blazer's ruined. But thank you - ' I said smiling slightly, before gently patting my face and rubbing my hands with it.

I looked down at the floor, avoiding his gaze, and proceeded to rub at my legs that were still splattered with water. I could feel his eyes looking down at me, undoubtedly thinking that I was a nutcase and that I shouldn't be allowed near anyone important because I'd just go and punch them in the face again.

I only did that when they annoyed me...

'We managed to keep Stark away - ' He said suddenly, his voice bright and chirpy as though he was trying to smooth over the fact that I'd punched a foreign diplomat in the face.

I nodded solemnly. 'He's still in Fury's office.' I gestured over to where he was still sat with his feet propped on the coffee table and saw Steve's brows furrow in disappointment. 'Not that it matters anymore. I'll be fired from SHIELD and be back home in time for dinner.'

'I'm not going to let that happen.' Steve said firmly and I looked up, smirking. Why did he care so much?

'You saw what happened.'

'That guy was acting totally out of line and you're one of SHIELD's biggest assets.' He said almost angrily and I raised an eyebrow. I'd only been at SHIELD 5 days. How exactly was I one of their biggest assets?

Still, the complement was very nice to hear.

'And what's going on here? Couples therapy?' I immediately chastised myself. I'd been so caught up in my tantrums and a towel that I hadn't even heard Stark creeping across the floor and drape himself down on the chair opposite me.

'I've told you - ' I started, but he cut me off by holding his hands up.

'I know, I know. But why are you drowned and sat here like an abandoned child. And why's Capsicle your carer?'

'It's nothing to do with you.' Steve said, staring down at Stark irritatedly.

I was going out, I might as well get it all out of my system...

'I punched a guy in the face because he kept touching me. And now Fury's on the warpath because I crushed his good relations. But we wouldn't need to rebuild the good relations if like three Brazilian heads of defense would get their heads out of their asses. Then there wouldn't be a fucking problem. But no. They can't do that, they - '

'What Brazilians?' Stark asked, his face confused, completely ignoring my passionate rant.

'We were ordered to keep them away from you so you couldn't insult them.' I said bluntly and Stark rolled his eyes.

'How rude,' he muttered under his breath before looking up at Steve with a grin on his face. 'And what's your story?'

'Leave it, Tony.' He said blankly, his eyes still fixed on me and I looked away as a second pair of footsteps echoed down the corridor.  
Okay, this was my funeral march.

'Rogers? Can you get back to our guests please?' His voice was steely and commanding, the voice that could bring a whole squadron of towering alpha males to their knees.

'Oh, it's actually happening.' I murmured, running my hands through my hair. 'It's actually happening. Regan Hamilton, beloved daughter and friend died today...'

Stark let out a snort of laughter and I rolled my eyes, my own lips curving into a smirk. I'd ruined everything. I'd ruined everything.

And here I was, laughing about it with Iron Man while Captain America looked on disapprovingly.

'I don't have long Hamilton, hurry up - ' Fury ordered, pointing to his office as I rose to my feet. I could feel my face blanching.  
It was actually happening.

'Good luck, shorty.' Stark teased, raising his hand in mock salute as Fury passed into his office. I sucked in a breath. I was so getting fired. I really was -

'You're not getting fired.' Steve promised and I realized that I'd been blabbering out loud. I blushed slightly as I heaved open the heavy glass door of nightmares. 'I'll make sure of it.'


	22. Vingt Et Un

And, because of some unknown force, Steve managed to keep his word - I didn't lose my job.

I mean, I still received a very firm talking to from Fury in which I had to promise my entire livelihood on never doing anything like that again but this was only a minor task, considering I'd been confident I was waving my job goodbye.

I'd fully explained the situation to Fury - which I'd thought redundant - and then Steve had given a very rousing speech on how it should have been the Brazilian jerk-face getting fired, instead of me, and how he'd been using his power and status to prey upon women and just because they were repairing relations didn't mean they could forget human rights.  
I'd desperately wanted to but in and say that he hadn't exactly been 'preying' on me but had decided to take a lesson from the day's events and keep my mouth shut.

The lesson only lasted temporally.

I was still in shock on Friday morning and throughout the day I'd find myself drifting off and just staring around at my surroundings, pinching myself that I was actually still a member of SHIELD.

My actions hadn't gone un-reported however, as I noticed a number of SHIELD agents staring at me more blantly than they usually did. Even the Avengers were now aware of my violent history as when Sam came to join me at my usual table for lunch (Trish was in a beginners French class) he talked of little else.

No, that was a lie. We also talked of the time we'd gone ice skating together and it had ended with both of us looking as though we'd been in some kind of fist fight the next day.

I allowed myself to lie in until 11am on Saturday morning in celebration for successfully completing my first week at SHIELD and not getting fired, despite how close I'd come.

I then spent the rest of the day pottering around the house and snuggling with the dogs, in high anticipation on the gang all coming over in the evening.

They were going to be so jealous once I told them of all the fun adventures I'd been having.

And that I'd been within touching distance of Captain America.

Just as I was finishing up my portion of stir fry and filling the dish-washed, I heard a knock on my door. I looked up at the clock. 5:54.

That was way too early for it to any of the gang...

Then who the hell was it?

Drying my hands on a cloth, I curiously padded over to the door with the dogs trailing behind me. It was almost as though they knew that the gang came around every Saturday and that they'd be smothered with attention and treats until the early hours of the morning.

I peered through the peephole, raising up slightly onto my tip toes.

What the -

I forcefully swung the door open, my brows furrowing harshly across my face. I was aware that my mouth was hanging open and that I was currently dressed in a pair of legging and a large green flannel shirt.

But I was too shocked to care.

On my porch, all cradling large duffel bags and rucksacks with slightly nervy looks on their faces, were the Avengers.

The actual Avengers. Steve, Sam, Barton, Romanoff, Stark, Maximoff and Vision. The people who I were sure only existed inside SHIELD and never actually left. Because given all the places they could have gone, I highly doubted that my front porch was high up on their list.

'What the hell are you guys doing here?' I breathed, the surprise evident in my voice. They all looked at each other and my curiousity began to develop into something else.

Anxiety.

'We need your help.' Stark said slowly and I realised that he seemed to be slightly deflated in contrast to his usually cheerful demeanor.

'Can we come in?' Romanoff asked and I knew that I definitely wasn't in a position to be denying Black Widow and the deadliest people on the planet access to my hallway.

I stepped back and gestured for them to enter, swallowing a lump in my throat and hurriedly looking around wishing that I'd tidied up more.

The dogs had disappeared somewhere, undoubtedly back to finish their food.

And why the hell were they all carrying bags?

'Fury's plan to rebuild relations was obviously a big stinking fail not only because someone decided to punch a representative in the face - ' Stark glared over at me as he spoke but I was focusing on his words.

A fail? Why? What had happened?

'But because now it turns out all of our homes have been bugged, bird-boy here nearly got run over - '

My eyebrows shot up as I instantly turned to Sam, who was holding his hands up.

'What? What did - ' I shrieked, my brain struggling to comprehend everything that was happening. Their homes were bugged and someone had tried to run Sam over?

'I'm fine Rae, I'm fine. It just woke me up a bit.' He grinned nonchalantly with a shrug, but I still didn't relax. What exactly was this?

'And people keep shooting at us...'

'You were shot at! When?' I gasped, wondering how the hell they weren't all freaking out over the prospect someone was blantly trying to kill them.

Though they were the Avengers. I supposed that sort of came with the territory.

'This morning. And we haven't been able to locate the perpetrators.' Romanoff explained with her arms folded and I suddenly realised how...strange she looked wearing a pair of dark jeans and a grey sweater.

'Which brings you into my hallway because?' I stuttered, looking between everyone. A conclusion was beginning to form in my mind as all their information sunk in.

Oh, I really hoped that I was wrong. 

'SHIELD HQ isn't safe for us right now.' Stark said bluntly and I could feel that my eyes were about to pop out of my head. 'The Brazilian mafia or something are out to get us and we need to lay low somewhere for a while.'

I could read into their silence. They wanted to lay low here. In my house.

I was still struggling to comprehend that someone had tried to run Sam over, never mind the fact that they were asking if they could hide from the Brazilian mafia in my house.

Who knew punching a guy in the face could lead to a international witch hunt?

'And your house is a lot bigger than we expected.' Barton said with a smirk on his face, gazing around my hallway.

'And fancier.' Stark said with a wide grin and a rolled my eyes.

'Is that supposed to be a compliment?' I asked. I couldn't believe that I was doing this. I really couldn't. 'And - God, I can't believe I'm doing this - I suppose you can stay here for a bit. It's not like I can exactly say no.' I said ruefully.

'Whoop whoop!' Stark cheered and I let out a sigh, turning around as I heard the patter of feet on the floor.

'I daresay I should also introduce you to the three other members of my household.' I said with a smile and I saw everyone look rather confused, other than Sam and Steve who knew exactly what I was going to say.

'This is Stella.' I leaned down to scratch her on the back of her neck, which I knew she liked. 'Digger's a loner so he'll be skulking around somewhere. And this little baby is Muffin.' I picked her up in my arms, giggling as she licked at my face.

I really did love dogs.

'You have dogs?' Wanda asked, her eyes fixed on the fluffy ball that was wriggling in my arms.

'Yep. And if that's a problem, then you're just going to have to cope because they're not going anywhere.' I said bluntly. 'But they're total softies, I promise.'

'That's good to know...' I heard Vision murmur. Was the guy - if I could call him that seeing as he wasn't exactly human - afraid of dogs?

I let out a sigh, running my eyes over the group of them. They looked like a gang of abandoned children who'd been left on my doorstop.

Well, they were really. They just also happened to be the Avengers.

'So...how's this going to work then?'

***

An hour later, I was feeling a lot calmer. I'd shooed the lot of them into the kitchen and fixed them a drink. Sam said he'd deserved it after being nearly killed. And Stark was, you know, Stark.

I'd lost 1 bottle of vodka already. And it was only 7:01.

I'd also rang Hill and she'd clarified a lot of things for me. Because I'd needed a lot of things clarifying.

She was obviously aware of the situation that the Avengers were in and agreed that the best option was for them to stay quiet for a while until they could figure out what they were going to do. And she also agreed that the SHIELD registered safe-houses might not be the best option either.

And none of them were big enough to keep all the Avengers together, which had been decided to be the best course of action.

So, to put it simply, I was on Avenger baby-sitting duty for the foreseeable future. It would hopefully only be a matter of days.

But it could be weeks. Or even months...

Or years...

'So, we have a bed situation - ' I said, after finishing talking to Hill and making my way back into the kitchen.

The Avengers were all seated around my dining room table which was located in the corner of the room. The fire was blazing and the surface of the table was quickly becoming littered with empty glasses.

Mainly from Stark, Barton and Sam.

The others were still on their first glass.

I was going to have to put down some ground rules.

'I'm not sharing with anyone!' Stark shouted as the others conversations died away. I folded my arms and stared at him forcefully. Mere hours ago he'd been my colleague and certainly not my favourite colleague.

Now he was my...lodger?

'Well you're going to have to.' I said. 'You all need to pair up. Either...Natasha or Wanda can share with me and then the rest of you will have to share.'

It felt strange to use their first names. I'd grown so used to using their surnames that it felt too personal to call them Natasha or Wanda.

Apart from Steve, of course. Because we were...friends? Were we?

I didn't really know. All I knew was that he were currently on a first name basis.

And I quite liked it.

'Sounds fine to me. Steve?' Sam smiled, nodding over at Steve who was sat opposite him.

'Sure. I suppose I can cope with you.' He joked with a grin, taking a sip of his water. Sam rolled his eyes and pretended to be offended.

'Thanks for the drinks by the way, Rae - ' Sam suddenly, raising his glass to me and I held my hands up.

'It's fine.' I said, as the rest of them all spoke their thank-yous.

'Won't this cost you quite a lot?' Steve asked sensitively. This had been one of my worries I'd expressed to Hill. Giving them a drink was one thing. Feeding and heating them all for a week was a different matter entirely.

'Don't worry about it. Hill's sorting me out an Avengers food budget. But that does bring me onto some...rules that I think need to be put in place.'

Stark let out an exaggerated sigh but I ignored him, straightening up as I felt everyone's eyes on me. I swallowed the lump in my throat before I continued.

'I'm not about to go completely changing my routine just because you lot are staying here and if you've got problems with the way I live my life then you're free to leave. That is, if you want to get attacked by the mafia and thrown into some desolate Brazilian prison. It's your choice.'

'I think we're all good.' Barton said, gulping the remnants of his beer. I nodded.

'I'm letting you eat my food and drink my alcohol and use my Wi-Fi and sleep in my beds and - '

'And on that note - ' Stark interrupted and I raised my eyebrows in his direction. 'How is your house so big? You've got like, what, 5 bedrooms? Don't you work for the UN? I thought they were paid peanuts?'

There was no balking on the personal questions, was there?

'My Great Aunt left it to me in her will when she died.' I said, feeling a slight swell of warmth and pride. 'I manage to pay the mortgage so I reckon I'm doing okay, Stark.'

Sam let out a low whistle and I chuckled, reaching for the empty glasses to clear them away.

'Don't mess with Rae Rae.' He murmured and I grinned.

What the hell had I got myself into?

***

Half an hour later the pairings had finally been decided - Stark had ruefully agreed to share with Barton - and I'd given them all a quick house tour before showing them to their rooms.

I had felt so awkward because literally hours ago these people had been my colleagues and now they were living in my house with me. My house, my safe space, had been invaded by the Avengers.

And it did make me feel slightly self-conscious. Were they judging every single aspect of my life? Why couldn't they have given me some notice?

I really needed to change the beds.

I had hoped that they would stay in their rooms for the remainder of the night so that I could spend time with the gang without having an awkward conversations.

Because, yes, I was slightly terrified of them hearing me sing. It just wasn't something I shared with people I didn't really know.

But no the world obviously wasn't on my side today as 20 minutes after I'd showed them all to their rooms - it had been decided that Natasha would be sharing my bed with wasn't terrifying in the slightest - they all trickled back downstairs and into the kitchen.

'Have you all eaten?' I asked suddenly as I retrieved some more beers. CariDee was brining round a cottage pie that she cooked so my dinner for the evening was sorted. But I'd be a crappy host if I didn't offer them any food.

The moments of silence answered my questions and as their 7 faces blinked back at me. I dug through the pile of fast food flyers that I kept under my fruit bowl and found my favorite pizza place.

Passing it over to Stark, I instantly heard the door bell ring. 'Just pick out whatever you want.' I called, hurrying over to the door. The dogs were crowding round it and I had to suppress a smile.

They really were physic.

Opening the door, I was greeted with Remi dressed in a black sweater and dark jeans. He was clutching a bottle of Champagne and grinned when he saw me.

'Evening Rae Rae - ' he smirked, embracing me in his arms and I breathed in his familiar musky. 'What's up?'

'Same old,' I peered out into the drive. Remi was always early for everything so I wasn't surprised to see there was no sign of the others. 'But I've got some people from work over so - '

'RAE WHY ARE THE AVENGERS SAT IN YOUR KITCHEN?' Remi's voice bellowed out from the kitchen and I sighed as the dogs started barking.

I was never going to be in for a quiet evening when the Avengers were around, was I?

Or my friends for that matter...

***

Twenty minutes later everyone had arrived - including the pizza delivery - and I was in the process of introducing everyone to everyone else. It had taken some explaining as to why the Avengers were sat around my table munching pizza but they'd taken it quite well.

I suppose they got used to all my crazy work place shenanigans.

'And we know who they are - ' Bertrand said, settling himself down behind the piano that also resided in my kitchen. 'We do watch the news.'

'Alright, alright - ' I chuckled, pouring out 5 glasses of champagne.

'So what is this exactly? You all sing show tunes and get hammered?'

'Pretty much - ' Britt mused, hopping up onto the front of the piano and letting her long legs dangle off the edge. 'It's kind of a tradition.'

'We could of all made it in the music business.' I explained passing around the glasses and avoiding the gaze of all the Avengers who I knew were staring at me. 'But we all decided to do other things - '

'Like join the UN?' Natasha asked, picking at the olives that were scattered across her pizza.

'That's a story for another time.' I said stiffly, watching Sam smirk a little.

Why was I feeling so nervous about singing? I loved singing. It was my biggest passion after dogs and shoes.

What was wrong with me?

'Do we get a song then?' Stark asked with a wink, dolloping more hot sauce onto his onion, sausage and chili pizza.

'You most certainly do.' Bertrand smiled, playing a few opening chords. Bertrand was the most confident and outgoing person that I knew. He didn't mind singing in other people.  
I, on the other hand, was feeling sick.

Trish was staring at me as Bertrand burst into the opening of Don't Stop Me Now. 'You okay?' She mouthed to me and I nodded, taking a gulp of champagne in an attempt to steady my nerves.

The atmosphere in the room felt stifling hot and claustrophobic. I quietly sang along to the backing parts, cursing myself for not belting out the words like I normally would. This wasn't me.

I could totally sing in front of the Avengers. I needed to get over these nerves. But it wasn't them I was really worried about.

It was Steve.

For some completely unknown reason that I couldn't explain.

FEATURED SONGS:  
Glee Cast - Don't Stop Me Now


	23. Veintidós

Somehow, I managed to do it. I managed to get a song out without collapsing onto the floor.

The gang decided they were each going to do a solo so after having a brief interlude with our favorite song from 'Avenue Q' that basically summed up all our feelings, CariDee started with 'A Summer In Ohio', Remi moved onto 'Bad Day' and then Britt belted out 'And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going'.

I'm pretty sure I saw everyone's mouth's drop open.

Because, yes, my friends were all fantastic singers. And Britt's range was incredible.

It was then decided to be my turn.

I didn't want to sing in front of the Avengers. But I also didn't want them to stop me from living my life and singing was a massive part of who I was.

And I knew that I was in a safe space. Because these guys were my bunch of superheroes and saviors of the world and nothing would ever change that.

That's how, with shaking fingers, I belted out 'Pulled' from The Addams Family Musical. I adored the song. I felt like I was going to be sick. Everyone's eye was wholly focused on me.  
What were they thinking? Why weren't they smiling? Was I absolutely shit?

But they clapped. They actually clapped. And Sam started cheering and whooping and toasted me as 'the best singer that SHIELD had.'

And who was I to argue with that?

Even Stark was smiling.

***

The next morning, I woke around 7am. I did feel slightly worse for wear, with my head feeling as though it was stuffed with sawdust but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

The sun was only just beginning to filter through the curtains and cast hazy shadows onto the floor. I spotted a pile of clothes thrown over a chair that I really needed to put away.  
Sighing, I threw the cover off me and swung my feet over the side of my bed. Oh shit -

I'd completely forgotten that I had been sharing a bed with Black Widow.

And how could I possibly forget? It had been the most awkward encounter that I'd ever had with a girl. Because she wasn't just a girl - she was freaking Black Widow.

And I really didn't want to piss her off.

I couldn't deny that Natasha was absolutely gorgeous, in a intimidatingly perfect kind of way. Yet we'd had a particularly blunt and scathing conversation just before I'd gone to sleep as to whether I found her attractive and whether this would cause any problems.

I'd sheepishly admitted that yes, she was gorgeous, but I was in a relationship at the moment and was perfectly content with that. She'd replied that she didn't want this to get between me and Sophie and that she'd just wanted to clear the air.

She'd then rather bluntly asked what I'd been doing dancing around the kitchen singing show tunes rather than seeing my girlfriend. I hadn't expected this and suddenly felt as though Natasha had some hidden agenda. I'd told her it was nothing to do with her and squeezed my eyes shut, determined to go to sleep.

And in reality, the bigger problem was that Sophie hadn't replied to any of my messages for the last few days or answered my calls rather than what I was doing dancing around the kitchen.

As silently as I could, I padded down the two flights of stairs that led to the kitchen. From what I could tell, everyone else was still asleep and this was the way I wanted it to stay. I'd felt slightly anxious about the whole thing, considering I was sure they were all used to much better sleeping conditions, but I hadn't been rudely awoken at 3 in the morning so I figured everything was okay.

The dogs were still fast asleep too as I entered the kitchen, their quiet snores the only noise in the entire house. I re-tied my fluffy grey dressing gown around myself - my thin t-shirt and leggings doing nothing to block out the chill - and started on breakfast.

I quickly decided on pancakes, because everyone liked pancakes, right?

I quietly turned on the radio, the sound of Carly Rae Jepsen bouncing around the room as I got to work pouring some juice and mixing the batter.

One of the creditentals that came with babysitting the Avengers was that I was now required to work from home. I was slightly glad about this because there was something about leaving my home and my dogs in the hands of relative strangers that didn't sit right with me.

And while I knew that I was being stupid and the dogs would be absolutely fine, I wasn't going to argue.

It also meant that I didn't immediately need to deal with the whole aftermath of the Brazilian...thing. I immediately wondered whether this was some punishment from Fury, considering how close he was to sacking me.

I looked down at the mixture that I was whisking. This was feeding 8 people...and superheroes at that...

Yeah, I was going to need more...

As I started on another load of mixture, my mind began to wonder as to what the future would hold. Where exactly did we go from here? The Avengers couldn't hide out in my house forever and the dodgy politicians needed to be given a reality check sooner rather than later.

Trish would tell me to stop worrying and that everything would work out in the end.

I just didn't know exactly how.

I soon finished creating an extra batch of mixture and began gently pouring it into the pan and holding my breath before I needed to flip the pan.

As the stack of fluffy, golden pancakes began to rise I started to set the table, laying out the plates, cutlery, glasses and jugs that I filled with orange juice and water.

I also made sure to brew some coffee. I wasn't a regular coffee drinker, unlike my brother and sister, but would have it from time to time. Some people, however, treated coffee like a religion and didn't want to offend anyone.

I was distinctly torn between appearing in full work attire, clutching a fully planned itinerary of today's events and my exact location at all times, and just remaining in my pajamas and rolling with it.

Having my new colleagues staying in my house was certainly a strange feeling. Especially considering they were the Avengers and they all required different things to get themselves through the day.

I just wanted to be a good host. And no one wants to disappoint Captain America and Black Widow with their cooking.

I just prayed they all liked pancakes and orange juice.

It took me a split second of metal debating on whether I should announce that breakfast was ready or just leave it until they all woke up naturally.

The pancakes were going to get cold. And I was hungry.

I walked out to the base of the stairs, listening for any sign of life from upstairs. I could hear a few creaking floorboards and the murmur of voices. That was a good sign.  
'Breakfast's ready!' I yelled, cupping my hands around my mouth to amplify the noise. Not that I needed to, considering how loud I could shout.

I grown up with a brother and sister and I'd quickly realised that in order to get my voice heard, I needed to shout.

Loud.

I made my way back into the kitchen and set about getting the dogs breakfast's ready - pouring them some fresh water and food. Digger and Stella were still asleep - they could honestly sleep through anything - but Muffin was wriggling around in her bed, her tiny tail waggling.

'And good morning to you too - ' I cooed in the voice that I only reserved for my dogs. 'Did you have a nice sleep?' I ruffled her fur and gently laid down her food, watching her dart over.

For such a tiny dog, she was actually quite speedy.

'Mmm, something smells good - ' Sam praised suddenly and I turned to see him and Steve, followed by the others, entering the kitchen.

I noticed that they all looked rather well rested, their hair slightly ruffled, and also noticed the tight, faded t-shirt that Steve was wearing that really showed off his muscles.  
I wasn't complaining.

'Just help yourselves,' I said, gesturing to the table. 'And there's coffee on the way if you want any.'

'Is this home-made orange juice?' Stark asked, peering over the jug as the rest of the group all sat down. I couldn't tell whether he was joking or not but I shook my head.

'No, it's not. Did you all sleep well?'

'No, I didn't. Because I had to put up with someone snoring all night.' Stark said sharply, pointing a finger at Barton. 'I honestly don't know how Laura puts up with you. And any more, you'll be sleeping in the hall.'

'You think you have it bad?' Sam exclaimed, heaping his pancakes with maple syrup. 'This guy hogs the covers like there's no tomorrow! I nearly froze to death!'

'Come on, that's a lie - ' Steve joked, pouring himself some water. 'And I'm not complaining about you kicking me all the time.'

'Sounds like you boys need to calm down. I had a very peaceful night - ' Natasha said, with a subtle nod to me and I smiled slightly.

'One thing I'm not complaining about is the food,' Sam said, looking up at me and reaching for another pancake. 'This is good stuff - '

'Thank you,' I glowed, pouring myself a glass of orange juice.

'Yeah, what's in this? Is it legal for pancakes to taste this good?' Stark mused and I rolled my eyes.

'There's nothing illegal in it if that's what you're asking.' I smirked.

'Really though, this tastes amazing.' Steve praised, catching my eye and I felt butterflies flapping around in the my stomach. What was wrong with me?

'You've really got the whole domestic goddess thing going.' Barton joked and I rolled my eyes.

'You've not seen the state of my wardrobe. I have not got the whole domestic goddess thing going.' I promised, looking over as Stella finally rose from her sleep. 'And I'll need to go shopping later for some more food. Any requests?' I quickly grabbed a pad and a pen as food items began being thrown at me, mainly from Sam.

I soon learned that Barton was allergic to blackberries, Stark had an obsession with M&Ms and that despite their flashy facades, they were all much too nice to specifically ask for food.

'Just get whatever you normally have.' Steve suggested, after avoiding my questions as to what he'd like for dinner.

'As long as you're sure - ' I prompted and they all nodded. 'I can't have you all ratting me out to Fury that I've not been looking after his babies.

FEATURED SONGS:  
Avenue Q - I Wish I Could Go Back To College  
The Last 5 Years - A Summer In Ohio  
Daniel Powter - Bad Day  
Glee Cast - And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going  
Carrie Hope Fletcher - Pulled  
Carly Rae Jepsen - Black Heart


	24. Ventitré

That evening, I'd survived through my first 24 hours with the Avengers living under my roof. And nothing had blown up or broken. It turned out that they could actually behave like functioning adults when they wanted to and that they didn't need looking after 24/7.

'Come on you three, get in - ' I released the dogs from their leads and watched them pad slowly back into the house. I always took the dogs for their walk in the evening, mainly because it meant I didn't need to wake up an hour earlier. I definitely was not a morning person, never mind how much I wanted to be.

It also tired me out enough so by the time I went to bed, I actually wanted to sleep.

I had been slightly anxious about leaving the house - and therefore the Avengers - alone for quite a while. I knew that they were all house-trained even if I teased them about not being but it was mainly because if they really were being hunted by a bunch of assassins then I didn't want them knowing where my house was.

I quickly scanned the exterior - there was no smoke or broken windows - before stepping into the hall and closing the door against the cold. I slipped off my boots and hung my coat over the bannister before making my way into the kitchen.

I froze in the doorway.

Not only was the fresh, almost spicy smell of tomato radiating from the oven but Steve and Wanda were both leaning over the stove while the others pottered around behind them.  
And Stark drank my vodka.

'Something smells really good - ' I murmured, not quite knowing how to react and everyone looked over at me. What was going on? Why were they cooking?

'We wanted to do something as a thank you for letting us stay here - ' Sam explained, leaving the garlic bread he'd been tastefully arranging onto a plate and walking over to me and slinging his arm over my shoulders.

What? I felt a smile slip onto my face and a warm flush came over me.

'Wow...Ahem...Thank you. That's really nice of you. But, honestly, it's fine.'

'There's no need to thank me, it was all Cap really.' Stark announced, pouring himself another shot of vodka and my eyes immediately went to Steve.

I didn't know whether it was the heat of the kitchen or being called out that made his face flush, but he looked a little shy and embarrassed about being called out.

'I didn't know you could cook.' I said, stepping further into the kitchen and my smile widening.

'It's not a skill SHIELD particularly looks for.' He joked, running a hand through his hair. 'And I don't think it's quite up to your standard but - '

'Okay, enough of the rambling. Rae, sit down - ' Sam led me over to a chair and passed me a beer with a grin. The table had been artfully decorated with a table cloth and my best set of plates. I saw Natasha adjusting the angle of the coasters and presumed that she was the one who'd set everything out.

'So what exactly am I having?' I asked curiously, still beaming. I had absolutely no idea that they'd pull a stunt like this and the fact that they had made me feel...wanted. And appreciated. Even if it was only for letting them stay in my house.

'Spag bol.' Stark announced, fiddling with my speaker as music began to pour out.

'It's my special recipe.' Wanda corrected him, looking proud as Barton poured a generous portion of the sauce over a bed of steaming pasta.

'And then some cake that Cap insists is edible and not some substitute for actual food during the war.' Stark continued and I saw Steve shoot him a dirty look as Vision presented the plate to me.

'Well, it certainly smells very nice.' I said, picking up my fork. It seemed as though the room had suddenly frozen for a moment as no one moved or spoke.

Even Stark was still, who I presumed hadn't done much more than stand there and drink vodka.

I took my time eating it, slowly cutting up the spaghetti and spooning it onto my fork. I rather liked this amount of control that I seemed to have over the room and I was definitely enjoying the paranoid and panicked expressions that were currently on everybody's face.

Grinning, I swallowed a large forkful and was careful not to react or give anything away. The whole room waited with baited breath.

But God, it tasted good.

I nodded, as I went in for a second forkful. 'It's really good. Like, really good. I love it.'

Everyone instantly relaxed and Stark even let out a chuckle as he cranked up the volume off my music. 'Thank God for that - ' I heard him murmur and rolled my eyes.

'Aren't you going to come and join me?'

***

Steve's cake also happened to be delicious and while I wasn't entirely what was in it, I would happily eat anything that contained sugar.

'This isn't exactly the ideal diet for a SHIELD agent.' I joked, wiping the crumbs and jam off my fingers. 'Are you feeding me loads of food just so I'll fail my evaluation?'

'You're not going to fail - ' Sam assured me, cutting himself another small piece.

'Yeah, from what we've seen so far is very impressive for someone who doesn't have any official training.' Barton told me.

'We've heard that you're pretty handy with a gun.' Stark joked, looking over at Steve who blushed slightly. What had they been saying about me exactly?

'It's one of the requirements for the UN once you reach a certain level.' I explained, smirking slightly to myself. 'The UN - a peace-keeping organization that teaches its members to shoot a gun.'

'It's for self defense.' Natasha said and I nodded.

'How long have you worked for the UN?' Wanda asked suddenly and I cast my mind back.

'6 years.'

'So, you know lots of secrets then?' Sam teased and I rolled my eyes, taking a gulp of beer.

'Yes. And I would tell you but then I'd really have to kill you.'

'I'd rather shorty did it than a bunch of hired mercenaries reporting to some Brazilian nut job.' Stark said bluntly, the conversation suddenly turning darker.

'I admire their persistence in avoiding to accept any kind of responsibility.' Natasha said.

'Most of the Brazilian representatives that I've met have been lovely,' I mused.

'Unlike that guy who had serious personal space issues.' Sam interjected and I paused for a moment. So the news really had got round, hadn't it? I didn't speak for a moment, listening to the song that always reminded me of Trish because she'd grown up in San Francisco.

'Yeah. Unlike that guy.' I murmured, nodding slightly in agreement. 'Turns out I really did break his nose.'

'Good. He deserved it.' Natasha said shortly without any hesitation.

'Even though I nearly got fired...' I continued quietly.

'Nah, Fury would never fire you.' Barton insisted. 'He needs your contacts to much. Finding allies is one of the hardest things to do. And you've got a phone book full of them.'

'As well as being an excellent agent.' Steve added on, smiling at me and I felt myself blush slightly.

'Are you sure about that?' I asked, gesturing over to Stark who was pouring himself another shot of vodka. 'That's nearly a whole bottle you've drank. And I don't want you being sick on my floor.'

'I might be killed tomorrow - ' He said simply, leaning back in his chair and downing the shot in one go, pulling a grimace as he did so.

'And you want to be drunk for it?' I asked, bemused.

'I'm merely indulging myself on my last ever night on earth.' I rolled my eyes, standing up and moving the vodka bottle out of his reach. He glared at me and stuck his finger up at me, but I simply responded with the same gesture.

'No one's going to kill you.' I assured them and I heard Stark scoff.

'This place isn't exactly Fort Knox.' He said venomously.

'I never said it was. I meant that you guys are the Avengers and that it's going to take a little more than a bunch of guns-for-hire killers to do you in. At least from what I've seen.'

'Aww, a compliment.' Sam grinned, winking at me, and I rolled my eyes.

'And I'm also insulted that you think so little of my home. I might have a few tricks up my sleeves.'

FEATURED SONGS:  
Jamie T - Power Over Men  
Arctic Monkeys - Fake Tales of San Francisco


	25. Vierundzwanzig

Later that evening, the Avengers piled themselves into my living room and announced they were watching a movie. I, on the other hand, plonked myself down at the kitchen with Stella lying across my lap and a small glass of wine.

I'd been trying to call Sophie for the best part of an hour. And, so far, I'd had no reply.

I was beginning to feel panicky and my stomach was whirling around like a rainstorm.

I didn't think she was at work because she didn't work Sunday evenings on account of that being the time she always (usually) spent with me. Or maybe she'd been called in suddenly and that was why she'd gone missing from the face of the earth.

She worked at Brooklyn Hospital as a nurse and I thought that I'd known her schedule pretty well. But apparently not.

We'd met 8 months ago at a bar when my sister was celebrating her 22nd birthday and we were having a girls night out. I instantly thought she was gorgeous and we'd clicked straight away and began dating.

It had been difficult, especially at first, because I was working at the UN and my hours were all over the place and so were hers at the hospital, but we'd been determined to make it work.

And finding time to see each other and communicate had only been made harder by accepting the job at SHIELD. And while I was fully aware of this and I also knew that my job wasn't perfect - that was clear seeing how much grief I'd received on my first day - I knew that after only a week at SHIELD, I was much happier than I had been at the UN.

That's not saying that I didn't like my job at the UN because I did, despite all the horrific and harrowing things that I witnessed.

But I had reached the level within the UN after my 6 years of working there where I wasn't experienced enough to be leading any departments or heading conferences but I was also too experienced to be simply going out on humanitarian missions.

And that rut that I'd dug myself into had slowly been killing me for the last 12 months.

Sighing as yet another one of my calls went to voice mail, I turned my attention to the e-mail that I was sending to CariDee.

I knew for a fact that she wouldn't reply to any calls that I made - in fairness, she was probably already sleep - because she was currently in the middle of helping at a fashion shoot.

Cari was fully obsessed with cameras and photography and when I'd first met her at college she'd been taking a photography degree. Now she was the assistant to a pretty influential photographer and had to be out of bed at crazy hours of the day.

Cari, Britt and Trish were my three best friends but I'd developed a different relationship with Cari over the last year since she was kind of my sister-in-law as she was dating my brother Jacob.

It had been very weird at first for one of my best friends to be dating my older brother, who I considered to be grumpy and smelly and too invested in his mechanics business to ever get a girlfriend. But I had been forced to eat my words as they were actually adorable together and ever since they'd bought a flat together, I couldn't deny that they both seemed very happy.

And that made me happy.

I suddenly heard a loud boom from next door and shushed Digger as he started barking. They were watching some random action movie and judging from the sounds I could hear, a building had just exploded.

I looked up at the soft pattering of feet and saw Steve enter the kitchen, a grey sweatshirt thrown over his t-shirt. He gave me a smile - the kind that people would call 'faint-educing' - and gestured towards the sink.

'I was just getting a glass of water. I don't want to drink all your beer.'

'Sure. The glasses are just in that cupboard.' I said, gesturing to the cupboard over the microwave.

'It's not like it actually does anything anyway but - ' I looked up as he trailed off to see Digger and Muffin both gently jumping up against his legs. Steve let out a chuckle and scratched them both on the scruffs of their necks.

'They really like you. Some people they won't even go near.' I told him as he reached for a glass.

'They stay away from Tony's like he's got some kind of tropical disease.' Steve joked and I smirked.

'They must be a good judge of character then.' I muttered under my breath, but judging from Steve's expression he heard me. 'Joking.' I added quickly. 'He's not so bad really.'

He still wasn't exactly my favourite person in the world but once you got over his brash and confident personality, he was very fun to be around.

Trish had said that we were very alike in some ways. I hadn't know what to reply.

My phone buzzed and excitedly I looked down to see I had a text from Sophie. I felt puzzled for a moment as to why she hadn't answered my call but realized she must actually be at work instead.

I clicked on the message, as I brought the bottle to my lips. My brows narrowed. I was going to be sick.

I dropped the bottle, brown glass and the lasting remnants of beer spilling across the floor.

'Regan? What's wrong? Regan?' I heard Steve's voice but I didn't take in his words. My hands were shaking so hard I almost dropped my phone.

What was happening?

The message hadn't been a message but a picture. Of Sophie, clearly. Naked.

But that wasn't the problem. The problem was the caption.

Like what you see, Jenny? <3 <3 xx

It was pretty hard to mix up the spelling of the name Regan and Jenny, wasn't it.

Pretty damn fucking hard.

I was aware of Steve approaching me, lightly tapping my shoulder and speaking to me. I could hear dogs barking, the murmuring of other voices but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered. Nothing.

So that's why she hadn't been replying to my messages.

We'd been slowly growing more distant over the last few weeks, going days without speaking to each other, and I just put it down to our hectic schedules.

But no. It was because of Jenny, or whoever the fuck Jenny was.

Steve was still lightly clutching my shoulder, asking if I was okay or I felt sick.

Yes, I did feel sick. I felt sick to my stomach. My hands were still shaking. My jaw was clenched. I wasn't thinking straight.

All I could think was that she'd lied to me. She'd lied to my face.

And I was sick of people treating me like shit.

Ignoring Steve, I immediately turned to my phone and dialed Sophie's number. I was going to keep calling her until she fucking answered me.

She picked up on the first ring.

'Rae! Listen, I'm - '

'No, you shut up for a minute.' I spat, seeing Steve's eyes widen. 'And tell me who the fuck Jen is.' Sam and Stark entered the kitchen, asking about the bottle breaking but I didn't care about them. I could feel my blood boiling and the tears beginning to form in my eyes.

'Rae, please. You weren't supposed to see that - '

'I kind of got that part. Who the fuck is Jen?' I heard Sophie sigh. I wanted her to give me a legitimate answer, that the picture had been edited or corrected or something.  
Just something. Something other than she'd sent pictures of herself to someone else.

'She works at the hospital. She only started a month ago and, Rae, it was supposed to go like this.'

'Go like what?' I asked, my voice steadily growing louder and I could feel the tears beginning to spill down my cheeks. 'You weren't supposed to sleep with her?' The words sounded bitter and rancid in my throat.

I'd only had sex with Sophie once. It took me a long time before I felt comfortable taking that next step in relationships, considering some of the experiences I had in the past. And I thought Sophie had understand that. And accepted me for it.

I guess I was wrong.

'Well, what was I supposed to do?' I could sense that Sophie was beginning to get angry and I could just imagine her on the other end, her deep green eyes wide, running a hand through her long blonde hair.

'What the fuck does that mean? You were supposed to - '

'You're never around, Rae! Don't you get it? I never fucking see you! And then you started that new job, knowing that you'd be away even more! And - '

'Wait a minute, how is this my fault?' I exclaimed incredously. Steve, Sam and Stark's eyes were all pinned on me but I was so filled with emotions to care. 'You're the one who's been growing distant and avoiding me.'  
'Because you're never fucking around! And you make all these grand speeches about making it work but I'm the one who's left waiting. Me. And you're the one who's been growing more distant. You take this amazing new job and then don't want anything to do with me!'

'That's not true, Soph. It's really not.' I stressed, wiping some of my tears away on the back of my hand. What had happened between us? What had we become?

'You're a load of crap and you know it. You're a hypocrite.'

'How long have you been seeing her?' I asked, pulling the conversation away from how shit I was. 'Jenny?'

'Don't say her name like that, it wasn't like that!'

'So you'll defend her, this girl who you've been screwing when you're bored, yet you call me, your girlfriend, shit?'

'What am I supposed to when we don't talk for days on end?' Sophie shouted, ignoring my question. She kept implying that this was my fault, this huge mess we were in.

And maybe it was.

'Not fuck - ' I couldn't speak. My throat was clogged up, I was fizzing in anger and I wanted to break down onto the floor and cry.

How had this thing that had been so perfect completely break apart because of one picture? What had happened?

Me. It was me. Me with my jobs and my busy schedules and my embassy meetings and -

'We're done, Rae.' She said simply and my heart broke.

'I didn't go behind your back and start sleeping with someone else - ' my voice was shaking and hoarse because of my tears. This wasn't real. Nothing was real.

'Maybe you'd have been happier if you had.' She said, in the matter of fact way that she always spoke in. 'And I'm pretty sure you still have one of my DVDs.'

She hung up. My mouth was wide open, searching for the words that could repair the wound that had suddenly tore us apart.

She'd cheat on me and call me crap and then ask for her DVD back.

I was crying and my hands were still shaking.

We were done.

She'd hung up on me.

I forced my lungs to keep breathing, looking up at the crowd of people who'd gathered in the kitchen to see me bawl my eyes out.

I looked down at the broken beer bottle on the floor. I wanted to throw my phone into the mixture of glass and beer and never look at it again.

I gently placed it down on the counter. No one spoke. Even Stark was speechless. At least that was one thing I'd accomplished.

'What?' I stuttered, forcing a smile onto my face and shrugging Sam's hand off my shoulder as he approached me. 'Have you never seen an angry Regan?'


	26. двадцать пять

Thankfully, the Avengers left me alone for a while so I was able to peacefully bawl into the bath that I'd filled with scented bubble bath.

I let out some of my aggression by aggressively popping bubbles and letting the locked door mask my crying. I hadn't stopped for around an hour. Silent, heavy tears had been continuously rolling down my face and I was unable to stop them.

Everything still felt surreal. I couldn't believe that that conversation had actually happened, that we'd actually exchanged those words and that I actually received that photo that had reduced my relationship to ruins.

After my fingers began to shrivel up, I extracted myself from the bath and threw on my pajamas, my hair slightly damp. I was simply going through the motions, completing tasks, moving from one room to the other.

My mind was numb. I couldn't think of anything else apart from re-playing the last through weeks constantly through my mind, like a film stuck in some warped loop.

Why hadn't I seen that something was up? How had I managed to completely ignore the signs? How hadn't I seen that Soph was actually lying to me and sleeping with somebody else?

I didn't have any answers other than that I was blind and stupid.

Very stupid. 

I thought back to the long, late-night conversations that we used to have when we weren't able to see each other during the day. Just hearing her voice had calmed me and made me happy; just knowing she was around had reassured me that there was someone looking out for me and that I was protected and safe.

That I didn't need to be totally together and invincible all of the time.

And now my comfort blanket, my safety net, was sleeping with somebody else.

Stupid Regan.

Her words had lodged themselves in my brain - I'd never be able to erase the conversation we'd had. Never.

And it was my fault. I hadn't done enough. I hadn't fought hard enough. I'd been so caught up in my new job at SHIELD and the new life that I could have that I'd forgotten about the other massive commitment in my life.

So of course she would leave me.

Because I had failed.

She cheated on you, Regan. You didn't fail at anything. A small voice was nagging me in the back on my head, prodding at my emotions and goading me to admit that I'd been let down by somebody else again.

But it hadn't. I was the let down.

I slowly wandered downstairs, having no idea of the time at all. It didn't matter. I was simply breathing but not really living in the moment.

The house felt eerily quiet, the moon casting long shadows onto the floor. I could hear a loud bubble of chatter coming from the living room and I picked out Natasha making a witty remark against Stark.

My ribs hurt and my lungs hurt. My head was heavy.

Maybe I should just go to bed. Get a drink of something strong that would tip me over the edge and get a long, deep sleep and forget today.

But I'd still feel the pain tomorrow. A broken heart as well as a headache didn't sound too good.

Then maybe I'd find a book or put on a film and drift off to that, transported to another world where my current problems didn't exist.

Of course, my problems were tiny and practically non-existent compared to some people's problems.

A part of my brain wanted to call Trish. I really wanted to call Trish and tell her everything - spill out every tiny detail and let her put me back together but as I passed the clock on the wall I saw that it was nearing 11:30.

Trish would long be in bed and it wasn't fair to wake her up. And besides, that would admitting that I'd failed.

I passed the living room on my way into the kitchen and the door was partly open, a warm glow leaching out in the hall.

'Rae? Rae?' It was Sam, using the soft and understanding voice that he always used in his meetings when he was explaining a particularly difficult topic.

I forced a smile onto my face and peered into the room. Everyone was scattered around, sat either on the floor or on the sofa, clutching a glass of something.

Everyone looked up at me as I entered but I focused wholly on Sam. I wasn't going to let them see me cry again.

'You okay?' He asked and I nodded.

'Yeah, I'm fine.' But I could tell that I didn't really sound fine, my voice was small and croaky. I widened my smile. 'Do you guys need anything?'

Stark suddenly patted the empty space next to him on the sofa, quirking his eyebrow up at me. For once, no one was shouting insults or scathing comments or me. For once, Stark was actually being quite nice.

'I'm not a small child.' I said, trying to make my voice sound more cheerful.

'You could pass as one...' Stark replied with a smirk.

'Why don't you come and sit with us?' Sam asked but I shook my head, rubbing away what felt like the beginning of a headache. 'You haven't got to go to work tomorrow so - '

'I think I'm just going to grab a drink and go to bed.' I said, swallowing hard and going into the kitchen. I usually opted for a hot chocolate at night to send me off to sleep but I wasn't in the mood for something to heavy tonight.

I gazed over at my wine cabinet for a moment. I knew that I'd regret it in the morning. But I just wanted to forget things for a moment.

I was in a house full of people yet I felt like I was the only person alive. I felt like -

'Rae?' Sam's voice was much closer this time and I turned to see him stood in the doorway, his arms crossed. 'You sure you're okay?'

I never lied to Sam. That was one of the reasons he'd helped me so much. I couldn't lie to his kind yet cheerful face that always bore a smile.

I just couldn't lie to him.

I shook my head, my eyes glassing over as my throat tightened up. Sam was over in an instant, wrapping his arms around me as I forced the tears away.

'Why don't you come and sit with us for a bit? You shouldn't have to be alone. And Steve might end up stealing your dog - ' I smirked a little and nodded as Sam led me into the living room.

No one asked why I hadn't gone to bed like I'd said, Stark simply moved over a little so I could sit down next to him. A collection of empty bottles littered the coffee table and I noticed that Stella was lying over Steve's lap with her head resting against Natasha's thigh.

She wasn't normally a cuddler but it looked like she had made some friends.

They were ranting about some soccer game that I'd obviously missed last week and Barton and Sam seemed to be getting quite heated about it. Muffin padded into the room and jumped into my lap, the warmth of her small furry body calming me slightly.

Digger was basically an anti-social, grumpy old man and was probably skulking around upstairs.

'I think that's quite enough of your venting.' Stark said suddenly, clapping his hands together. 'While we're all together I think we should play a game.'

'What kind of game?' Steve asked suspiciously and it struck me that he must have been on the receiving end of many of Stark's games in the past.

'Something to spice things up a bit.'

'I'm sorry to disappoint boys but I'm in no place to take my clothes off.' Natasha admitted with a smirk and Stark rolled his eyes.

'I was thinking more along the lines of truth or dare.' Stark said with a fiendish grin.

'I say yes, only if our gracious host will join us - ' Barton said, raising his whiskey glass in my direction and I got the impression that he was on the verge of being very, very drunk.

I didn't respond for a moment and continued to stroke Muffin's fluffy white fur. 'Fine.' I finally admitted. 'I'll play your stupid game.'

'And I think it's fair to say that dares are a wild mixture of shots because that's the most rebellious thing we can do apparently.' Natasha said and everyone agreed, although I did think that was slightly unfair as Steve had even admitted to me that alcohol did nothing to him.

But at least this way I could get to find out some more about the other Avengers and forget the days events at the same time.

'And I think Rae should start.' Sam said smiling at me and I bit my lip.

'Fine. Sam. Do you like Trish?' I asked, this being the first thing that popped into my head. Stark broke into a wide grin and I shrugged as Sam looked down into his lap.

'Course I like her.' He said nonchalantly and I rolled my eyes.

'Okay. Do you like like Trish?' I repeated and Sam held his hands up.

'I don't care if this is your house, you only get one question.'

'Wait, we didn't agree - '

'Yes we did.' Sam said, cutting me off and I glared at him as he turned towards Natasha.

'Who's the most attractive in this room?' Sam asked her with a wink and I saw her roll her eyes as she re-crossed her legs, looking down into her glass.

'I mean that would be telling.' She said secretively and Sam groaned.

'No, that doesn't count. I want an answer.'

'Wanda.' She replied instantly. 'I want her hair.' Wanda colored slightly but beamed over at Natasha.

'So it's my turn?' Natasha nodded. 'Okay. Stark - '

'Yes darling?' I rolled my eyes.

'What makes you the happiest?'

'Well that really would be telling.' He said with a smirk. 'And why have we gone so deep all of our sudden? What happened to the easy questions that you didn't have to think about?'

'I'll change it then, I - '

'No, no, I am a gentlemen and I'll answer.' I raised my eyebrows up at this but no one seemed to notice. 'I mean, alcohol's pretty good and I like my suits and Pepper - ' He trailed off suddenly and the atmosphere in the room froze over.

I'd only heard rumours and seen it splashed all over the headlines that he and Pepper Potts had gone their separate ways. But I hadn't expected Stark to look so...sad about it. So quiet and small and actually sincere about it.

'Anyway, moving on. Rae Rae - ' I glared at him as he said this and this seemed to only make him smile more. 'What is your opinion on tattoos?'

'I'd be rather hypocritical if I said I didn't like them, considering I have three.' I murmured and there was suddenly a chorus of 'what!' and 'no, you're kidding!' and I shrugged.

'I, for one, did not see that coming.' Stark admitted and I smirked.

'They're hardly massive but they're there.' I said, rolling up my pajama leg. 'I've got this one.' I gestured to the small black spade symbol that I had on my right ankle. 'Which I got when I was 18. Then I've got this one.' I gestured slightly above that to the words 'still I rise' that curled around my leg. 'Which I got when I was 23.'

'What's that from?' Steve asked suddenly.

'A poem. By Maya Angelou.' I answered simply and he nodded. 'And then I've this one.' I lifted up my right wrist where the word 'ohana' was scrawled across in a swirling font. 'Which I got when I was 19.'

'Doesn't that mean family in...Hawaiian or something?' Barton asked after a moment, looking slightly puzzled and I nodded.

'How the hell do you know that?' Natasha asked pointedly and he shrugged.

'I've seen Lilo and Stitch.' I suppressed a smirk.

'And why exactly do you have a Hawaiian word on your wrist?' Stark asked.

'Because my mom's Hawaiian.' I admitted and I saw Steve's eyebrows shoot up.

'So that's why you speak Hawaiian...' he murmured and I nodded, tickling Muffin under her chin. No one spoke for a moment, digesting this piece of information. My Hawaiian heritage wasn't very clear from my appearance and it often surprised people to learn that I was in fact half Hawaiian.

'I did not strike you as the tattoo type.' Stark admitted after a minute and I narrowed my eyes.

'And what type is that?' I asked sharply. I hated stereotypes. Almost as much as I hated guacamole.

'The idealistic, wants-to-save-the-world, total-teacher's-pet, daddy's-girl type.'

Okay so definitely not so much the daddy's girl type but it seemed that Stark had most of my personality down to a tee. And, judging from Sam's smile, he knew it too.

But I was going to tell him that.

'And what's wrong with being that?'

'Nothing. I just didn't think you'd be the type of person to get tattoos.'

'Well you can stick your stereotypes.' I said firmly, pouring myself a shot glass of vodka and taking a sip. I felt like my tattoos were now burning holes through my clothing and that everyone was staring at them and trying to decipher their true meanings.

But why did they need to have any true meanings.

Maybe I just liked them.  
***  
An hour later, it was clear that the alcohol was beginning to affect everyone's systems, except Steve and Vision who alcohol didn't seem to have any affect over.

The questions had quickly turned from the deep, personal ones to questions regarding everyone's love lives and these seemed to be particularly aimed in Steve's direction which he rather bashfully answered.

Why did Stark, Sam, Barton and Natasha keep winking at each other? Was there some kind of group joke that I wasn't aware of?

I didn't dwell on it; my alcohol and grief filled brain didn't want to.

Vision asked me to sing which I certainly was not expecting and caused me to have a mini panic attack. But, because a shot glass of strong whiskey, vodka and milk was the last thing I wanted to digest, I forced myself to do it and stumbled through some Carrie Underwood and Ella Eyre.

I tried not to meet anyone's eye and it seemed to go quite well, despite me thinking my voice was slightly croaky and that I sounded to be on the edge of tears.

Although the second I finished, Stark proclaimed me to have lost my swearing virginity. And I stuck my tongue out at him.

I then asked Barton what his favourite type of pizza was and I was extremely happy to hear it was Hawaiian. Stark and Sam groaned in disgust and I threw a cushion in Sam's direction which he narrowly avoided.

Hawaiian pizza was the only true pizza. And I'd fight anyone - but probably lose to - anyone who thought otherwise.

Barton then turned to Steve with a suspicious smirk on his face and shot Natasha a small conspiratorial wink. 'Who'd you think, in this room right at this moment, in this most attractive?'

'Oooh!' Sam cheered and Steve glared in his direction.

'I'd watch your step, Cap - ' Natasha teased as Steve stared down at his hands.

'Tick tock tick tock, we've not got all day.' Stark pushed and I bit my lip, slightly anxious at what he was going to say. It was obviously Natasha. Or Wanda, because her hair was lovely. But then Barton definitely wasn't bad looking...

'I'd say it's a three-way-tie between the ladies.' He said finally with an embarrassed smirk, gesturing towards us. I felt myself blush a little but I was saved by Stark booing rather loudly.

'That, my dear friend, is called cheating.'

'Because you know all about cheating at games, don't you Tony?' quipped Steve and everyone starting laughing. 'Okay, my turn. Sam, when did you meet Regan?'

I felt my blood run cold. My eyes shot to Sam who was wearing a slightly worried expression on his face. It wasn't how I knew Sam that made me worried because that was innocent enough.

It was the questions that were bound to follow. The questions that I didn't want to answer. The questions that would bring back a torrent of painful memories that I'd spent the last 5 years trying to forget.

'I - uh...' Sam stuttered, faking a smile and raising his eyebrow. I swallowed thickly, pushing away the growing headache that was forming in my brain. No. I didn't want this right now. I really didn't.

But if I didn't, then I was condemning Sam to a whiskey, milky drink of terror.

'I was at one of Sam's talks.' I said finally, feeling my hands start to sweat with anxiety. 'And at the end, we got talking and found that we had the same kind of humour.'

Please don't ask why, please don't ask why, please don't ask why...

'Why were you - ' Stark started and his words jump-started me.

'Since I technically answered that, I'll go next.' I said, forcing a wide smile onto my face and hoping that no one would bring the subject back up. 'Steve, have you drugged Stella? Because she's usually not that much of a cuddler - '

I drew everyone's eyes away from myself and towards the sleeping form of Stella that was draped across Steve's knee, while he gently patted her head.

I let out a deep breath, wiping my hands on my sides. I'd narrowly avoiding dragging my past back into the present. Sam was laughing along to something Barton was saying, so he didn't seem to be too caught up in it.

But Natasha and Steve were both looking at me strangely and Stark didn't look too happy about being cut off. Did they know something? Were they guessing, theorizing, forming an idea of what I was hiding?

Well they could keep guessing. Because I was telling. Not yet.

FEATURED SONGS  
\- Carrie Underwood - Cupid's Got A Shotgun  
\- Ella Eyre - Comeback

Thanks for reading everyone!


	27. 二十六

After a fitful night of sleep, I took a long shower before Natasha even had the chance to stir. Despite the alcohol that was still swirling around in my system, I could still remember the previous days events as though they'd been scrawled across my forehead.

I was still angry, still angry with myself that I hadn't seen anything sooner. I was still angry that I hadn't read the signs. Because it was my fault. I was the reason everything had fallen apart.

I was sullen and moody as I prepared a breakfast of porridge and fruit and even some cheerful Stevie Wonder nor Muffin's fluffy tail could appear to brighten my mood.

I made a mental plan to go for a run at some point today otherwise Trish would be lapping me on the field and I really just wanted to get out of the house for a while. I wasn't used to being surrounded by so many people.

But in some respects, I was lucky. The Avengers were practically on house arrest. They couldn't leave even if they wanted to. And I could tell as they all slumped down for breakfast that being cooped up inside was beginning to affect them all.

I knew that the gang were coming around later - Bertrand and Britt were bringing some weird Mexican salad and wine - and this always cheered me up, no matter my mood.

And maybe it would cheer the Avengers up too. I couldn't have this many miserable people living under one roof. It was going to send me insane sooner or later.

I also rang Hill to check on the situation and see if there had been any more developments. There had been no more open threats against them which meant either the assassins had simply got bored, didn't know where they were or were just laying low until they eventually came out of hiding.

I desperately hoped it was the former.

Hill explained that she had a number of task forces out following up leads and searching for information but even she couldn't see what action they could take at the moment without endangering someone.

I asked if there was anything diplomatically I could do, itching to get some actual work accomplished. But Hill told me rather bluntly that I wasn't really liked at the moment and that any chance I took to have a nice conversation would ultimately end up with someone getting shot.

I put the phone down feeling dejected. I didn't want to feel guilty and useless at the same time. Those two feelings weren't healthy or compatible together.

I wasn't going to let myself feel down. I wasn't going to let the Avengers see me have another mental breakdown. Then they'd really think I was a sap.

And that meant one thing.

Going food shopping.  
***  
An hour later I returned with enough food to feed a small army. The woman at the till had looked at me as though I was an alien from Mars or had snails growing out of my ears.

Somehow I managed to transport all the shopping from the trunk of my car to the kitchen, frequently dismissing any help from the Avengers.

Because if they did, then someone might spot them. And that would mean more trouble for everybody. Which was trouble I didn't need.

Just as I began to unpack the shopping, there was a knock at the door. My muscles instantly stiffened, my eyes searching the windows for any sign of movement.

I wasn't expecting anybody until 7pm tonight. So who was at the door? Had the Avengers been spotted? Had I failed in another mission?

I crept towards the door, shooing Stark and Barton out of the hallway and into the living room. In any other situation I was sure they would have questioned me but with the frantic look in my eyes, they quietly did what I asked.

'Who is it?' Steve asked quietly as I turned towards the door. I waved him away, my ears straining for any kind of noise. I could hear voices. And the shuffling of footsteps.

Oh shit. What if it really was a bunch of assassins coming to kill me? And everyone else in this house?

My heart was racing. I seriously considered reaching for my gun right this second. No. I'd check the peephole first.

And then decided how to proceed.

I stretched up onto my tiptoes, holding my breath as I looked through the peephole.

'For fuck's sake - ' I muttered loudly, abruptly reaching for the handle.

'Do we need to - ' Steve started but I shook my head. Honestly.

'Do you not know that I'm a government agent? And appearing unannounced does nothing for my nerves?' I said bluntly, folding my arms and leaning against the doorframe as my brother stared back at me.

Despite being only one year older than me, Jacob was more than 1 foot taller than me which I really didn't think was fair. And he always seemed to have grease streaking through his dirty blonde hair or on his clothes which were always blue. I don't think he actually owned any other colors.

'It's an emergency.' Jacob admitted with a lopsided smile and I rolled my eyes, turning my attention to the small figure that was stood by Jacob's side.

Joanie had been a constant fixture in my family since I'd been in college. She was my mom's best friend's daughter and since she'd died only two months after giving birth to Joanie, my mom had adopted her and become her legal guardian. You'd never know that there was no blood between us with her dark hair and eyes and even though she was only 9, she definitely knew more about her family than she let on.

And it seemed that Jacob was on babysitting duty for today. Or rather, child-sitting duty as Joanie's school was closed for the day.

'Who's died?'

'Okay...maybe not that bad - ' Jacob replied and I rolled my eyes again. Jacob didn't have a bad bone in his body and that was why I thought he and CariDee were so perfect for each other. 'My shower's broke.'

'Aren't you supposed to be a mechanic? Can't you...fix things?' I stuttered, not moving from my position against the door frame. Even though I knew he would never intentionally rat someone out, I did want to try and control the amount of people who knew the Avengers true location.

'Exactly, I'm a mechanic. Not a plumber!' Jacob said exasperatedly as Joanie looked up at me with wide eyes. I sighed. My family really would be the death of me.

'Go on then - ' I said finally, reading into Jacob's expression and body language and seeing that he probably did actually want a shower. 'But be warned, there are some work people floating around.'

I stepped back to let Jacob and Joanie before shutting the door again and locking it twice.

'You got it - ' He said, pulling his rucksack off his shoulder and sprinting up the stairs.

'Wow. He must really want a shower - ' I murmured and Joanie let out a giggle.

'OKAY. WHY IS TONY STARK SLEEPING IN THE GUEST ROOM?' Jacob's voice suddenly echoed down the stairs and I suppressed a groan.

Why was Stark always the first one people met? Personally, I though Steve was much more impactful.

'Because that's where he's sleeping!' I shouted back up the stairs. 'And I'm sure Cari mentioned that they were staying here.'

'I didn't know they were in my bed!' Whenever Jacob stayed over, he always took the first guest room because the bed was the biggest and could accommodate his 6 foot 5 frame.

'Stop complaining!' I called back, ushering Joanie into the kitchen. She'd stayed in my house often enough to know where everything was but I thought that maybe the Avengers might freak her out a little.

Especially Vision. Because he was, you know, not human...

'How's school then?' I asked, reaching for a glass and a bottle of her favourite peach juice.

'Good.' She replied, tangling her fingers in her dark curls. 'I joined the choir last week. Mia did as well - '

'Really?' Mia was one of her best friends at school who had also been around a number of times to my house and had an obsession with Froot Loops. 'That's great.'

Maybe I would drag Joanie into the world of showbiz too.

The dogs suddenly skittered into the room, undeniably having detected her scent, are started jumping up against Joanie's legs, frantically wagging their tails. Joanie giggled, trying to brush them off but soon gave up, letting them wander in circles around her.

The dogs really liked her.

I continued to unpack all my shopping, all of it being the operative word. I would think I had finally reached the end of it and then I'd find I had another three bags lurking on the floor.

And while my method of putting the food away would appear to be systematic, I really was just shoving it into various cupboards. Most of all because I wasn't tall enough to see into the highest cupboards and I couldn't be bothered precariously standing on top of a chair.

I turned around, about to ask whether Joanie wanted to watch a film or something, to find her sat cross-legged on the floor and teasing the dogs by holding their ball out of their reach.

'I just need to take some things upstairs, alright?' I asked with a smile and she nodded. 'And just ignore the people walking around, they're from...work....'

'They're the Avengers, right?' Joanie said confidently without missing a beat. She really was more observant than we gave her credit for. 'I think I saw Black Widow playing Solitaire on your computer.'

Did she really?

'Yeah, they're the Avengers. But you can't tell anyone, okay? Do you promise?'

'Are they on a secret mission?' She asked excitedly.

'Something like that.' I answered vaguely. 'Do you promise?' She nodded and I collected up the bits that needed to be put upstairs - toothpaste, soap and a whole variety of shampoos, conditioners and shower gels in a range of scents.

I didn't know what scent Tony Stark preferred to use, did I?

I took the stairs two at a times, indeed seeing Natasha sat clicking on my computer. I'd stopped trying to track the Avengers every minute of every day as I knew that they were allowed to wander around and do their own thing.

It was probably hard enough to be locked in the same room for days on end, never mind having someone constantly tracking your movements.

As I passed the guest bathroom, among the sounds of the gushing water I heard my brother singing to what I thought as The Beatles.

But rather badly.

Like really badly.

'Oi!' I banged my fist on the bathroom door. 'You're not the member of the family who was blessed with the great singing voice!'

'When I'm in the shower, my soul gets to be free!' Jacob shouted back and I rolled my eyes, leaning against the door. 'I'm done now anyway, Rae.'

'Good - ' I called back as the water was cut off and I quickly distributed my various bathroom products between the other two bathrooms that were located on this floor.

Making my way downstairs, I suddenly noticed the Avengers all crowding around the door and talking in quiet whispers. I slowed my steps, trying to hear what they were saying without them noticing me.

As I crept closer, I gathered the general gist of what they were all thinking. They wanted to know who Joanie was, whether she was my secret love child or a runaway drug addict.

'Have you really never seen a child before?' I asked loudly, causing them all to jump slightly.

'Not one who looks exactly like you - ' Stark explained.

'And we're not even related by blood.' I mused and judging from the look everyone was giving me, I'd kept them in suspense for long enough. 'She's my adopted sister, Joanie.'

'Oh. That's much less exciting than what we though - ' I heard Stark murmur and rolled my eyes. I didn't think I wanted to know what other theories they'd come up with.

'And this bumbling idiot is my brother Jacob - ' I said as Jacob passed me on the stairs, nudging me in the ribs as he did so. He weaved around the Avengers, awkwardly waving at them as he did so, and entered the kitchen.

'Oh, so you're starving too, are you?' I said. 'Well come and steal all of Regan's food why don't you.'

'Thanks, I will - ' He replied cheekily as I entered the kitchen after him to see him rooting through the freezer. 'Have you broken up with Soph or something cos there's enough ice cream in here to feed an entire army!' 

I froze. I knew that Jacob hadn't meant anything and it had simply been a passing comment, but he'd actually hit the nail right on the head.

And I couldn't even put this down to having the Avengers staying with me. Ice cream was one of my coping mechanisms.

Jacob must have noticed my silence as he turned to look at me, his face no longer jovial but concerned. 'Rae?' I didn't say anything, just nodded solemnly.

'What...what do you mean?'

'I broke up with Soph yesterday. She was sleeping with someone else and - ' Jacob had crossed the room in an instant, wrapping his arms around my tiny frame.

'I'm an idiot, I'm so sorry, I'm an idiot.' He kept repeating as I breathed in his familiar, pinewood scent and tried not to let the tears fall.

FEATURED SONGS:  
The Beatles - Come Together

\- What did you think guys?


	28. Vinte E Sete

It was later that day, and after Jacob had sufficiently eaten enough ice cream he had took Joanie to the park and the majority of the Avengers had settled into the room I called my 'gym'.

Although it was less of a gym and more a room that contained a treadmill, a rowing machine, a handful of weights, a balance beam and a floor covered in mats so that when I inevitably fell off, I wouldn't severely injure myself.

I left them to their own devices, cleaning the kitchen and doing the laundry. They were presumably doing 'super hero' stuff. But if the gossip from all some UN agents were to be believed, they were all born with bulging muscles and quick-thinking minds and mind-boggling endurance.

Last time I checked, there wasn't a gene for archery skills or patronism.

Barton and Natasha had also been dropping not-to-subtle hints all day that I was still expected to train for my evaluation, even though I was now working from home - although what work I could actually accomplish I didn't really know.

It wasn't that I was deliberately not practicing - I wasn't that rebellious - but more of that I preferred to train alone, or at the most with Trish or my brother. Not with people who I'd just met, and with the Avengers - whose skills would far outshine mine - at that.

Not where I'd feel pressured to get everything right and be a fitness goddess.

But I knew that this wasn't an good enough excuse. I needed to train if I wanted to pass my evaluation in a few weeks.

And I could just sit on the floor for a bit and stretch enough to keep them off my back. Or until they get bored and left and then I could actually do some higher-intensity stuff without worrying about what they thought of me.

If I stayed down there for just half an hour, just for 30 whole minutes, then I could spend the rest of the day drowning my sorrows in ice cream and binge watching House of Cards.

Even though I had already seen all the current episodes.

Sighing, I pushed myself up from my chair and very slowly meandered up the stairs. If I was going into the gym, I needed to be wearing the right gear.  
***  
Ten minutes later, my hair was tied up in a high ponytail and I was dressed in some black leggings, a black sports bra and a blue tank thrown over the top. I'd left my feet bare because if I did end up going onto the balance beam then that wasn't going to work while wearing sneakers.

My 'gym' was located in the basement, which meant you had to go down some slightly rickety steps which gave you a work out before you even got down there.

As I carefully crept down, the overwhelming smell out sweat invaded my nostrils and I wrinkled my nose slightly in disgust.

I didn't know they actually perspired, like actual humans. I thought they oozed honey or something and that was why they all looked so...super hero-y.

Unsurprisingly, I didn't find Stark down there (I was pretty sure I'd heard him singing softly in the shower) and was met with Natasha, Barton, Steve and Sam.

Steve had taken the treadmill and Barton the rowing machine which left Sam lifting some weights and Natasha lunging on the mats.

My eyes were instantly drawn to the fact that Steve, Barton and Sam were all wearing very tight t-shirts. Or rather, t-shirts that were now clinging to their muscles with sweat.

Even Sam didn't look too bad in the muscles department which I certainly hadn't expected. Though everyone did look slightly...pathetic when they were standing next to Captain America.

But, all in all, I was not complaining. Not one bit.

Because now I could openly check them out instead of secretly.

I plopped myself onto the mat as Natasha shifted into some elaborate headstand, my eyes shifting between her and the guys. I had never been in a room with so many attractive people before.

I was pretty sure I was drooling. Like, actually drooling.

But I was allowed to. It was my gym. And it wasn't every day that it was invaded by superheroes.

I started doing some basic stretches to warm up my shoulders, back and arms and then moved onto my legs, which involved sitting on the floor and bouncing my legs like a frog.

I kept one eye firmly on the guys as I pressed up with my hands, hearing a satisfying crack from my hips. Sam was sweating a lot more than both Barton and Steve and I could see him slowing down and panting heavily.

'Go on Sam, put your back into it - ' I teased with a smile and he glared over at me.

'Says the person sitting down.' He replied. I then moved into the splits, holding my arms above my head as I held the position.

'Don't you want to get into this position?' I asked back, cocking my head to the side and grinning. He took one look at me and turned back to his weights.

'Not particularly.'

'Come on Hamilton, that's not training.' Barton said suddenly, his voice sharp and my smile faded.

'Yes it is.' I responded, lifting my back leg up and grabbing it with my hand. 'It's flexibility.'

'No, it's not.'

'You're not allowed to bully me, I'm letting you stay in my house.'

'I'm still your superior.' He reminded me, not slowing his pace on the rowing machine for one moment and I pulled a face, hearing Sam chuckle.

'Well if you really want to pull that card...' I muttered under my breath.

'Get up, go for a run or something - ' Barton continued as I swapped legs, sliding my left leg forwards until I was in the split position. I wasn't as good on my left and could only take one hand off the floor.

'I went for a run yesterday.' I countered. 'And it's raining.'

'Then practice your skill then.' Sighing, I rolled onto my knees and stood up.

'I'm supposed to enjoy practicing my skill, not be bullied into it.' I murmured, doing a few jumps on the spot. I wasn't good when people were watching me, but I'd just have to suck it up.

'What's your skill?' Sam asked, turning to face me.

'Petting her dogs.' Barton muttered under his breath and I glared over at him.

'Gymnastics actually.' I countered. 'And yes, it is a sport before anyone says anything.'

I lived the entirety of my life arguing with people on whether gymnastics was sport or not and many uneducated people had told me that it wasn't. They didn't know how much strength and determination that it took.

'I'll have to put some music on though,'

'As long as it's not Broadway.' Sam answered with a smirk. He knew - he so knew - just how much this comment would rile me up.

'And what's wrong with that?' I asked, my voice unwavering as I climbed up onto the balance beam.

Sam didn't answer.

Good. Because I probably would have bitten his head off.

Finding the first bit of music that had zero connection to Broadway, I started walking along the length of the beam which got my feet used to the length and width of it. Then I moved onto some basic balances, managing to do these with ease.

I then moved onto some turns, gripping my core so hard I was surprised my ribs didn't pop out. I could feel everyone's eyes resting on me as I moved up and down the beam, waving my arms above my head and kicking my legs out.

'You're supposed to be training.' I said, my voice sounding slightly strained and forced. I needed to relax. 'You don't want me to lock you in your rooms and forget to feed you.'

Everyone seemed to turn back to what they had been doing, but I still felt like I was being carefully critiqued with every position I held and every pose that I pulled.

Which was ridiculous really because I knew that they had better things to think about rather than my gymnastics ability.

I kept my mind focused on the music in order to tune everything else out. I tried a handstand, my arms shaking slightly as I gripped the wood before landing back on my feet.

I then did another handstand, curving my legs towards my head in an attempt to place my feet on the wood and then push myself up. But I obviously wasn't thinking hard enough because my head started screaming that I was going to fall and my left arm gave out so, one way or another, I ended up on the mat.

'Fuck,' I murmured, wiping some sweat from my forehead. Either I was really out of practice or the beam was abnormally sweaty because of all the moisture in the room.

'You okay?' Steve suddenly asked. I hadn't realized he'd been watching me. I nodded.

'Yeah, I'm fine.' Maybe I'd slightly overestimated the strength that I'd been able to build back up in the last couple of days

Maybe I'd just stick with balances for now.

Singing along to some of the words to help me concentrate, I watched Nat as she started sparring with an invisible person.

I definitely would not want to push in front of her in the lunch queue. If I wanted to keep my head attached to my body, that is.

'Stop singing and train - ' Barton's words yanked me out of my dream state as I looked over at him, unimpressed.

'Alright, bird man - ' I countered and heard Sam snicker.

'You nicknamed everyone?' Barton asked, pausing on the rowing machine for a moment and raising his eyebrow at me.

'Not everyone.' I said slowly, thinking back to all the conversations I'd had with Trish where we'd done exactly that.

'She's not that creative.' Sam put in and I resisted the urge to stick my finger up at him.

'Sam's got several - little baby bird, my main man Sam - ' I started, watching his eyes roll back and an embarrassed smile to cross his face. 'And I've got a whole dictionary's worth for Cap.' I saw his eyebrows shoot up and I bit my lip, looking down at my feet as I rolled out my shoulders.

'Give us one then - ' Sam called as I kicked my leg up in the air and spun around on the other.

'No. You're all being mean and not letting me sing.' I said smugly.

'Come on, Rae - ' Sam urged but I shook my head, keeping my mouth closed.

'Tell me one. In French or something. No, not French because Barton and Cap would have a very slim chance of translating it.' Natasha said, a smile on her face.

It couldn't hurt to tell Natasha one, could it?

'性感的化石 - ' I said after a brief pause, watching the looks of confusion cross the boys' faces as Natasha broke out in a grin.

'I like that one  - '

'Me too.' I replied, shooting a look at Steve as he rolled his eyes.

FEATURED SONGS:  
5 Seconds of Summer - Girls Talk Boys


	29. Tjue Atte

Later that evening once I'd stopped drooling over the Avengers (because I was pretty sure I'd been spotted by Natasha) the gang all arrived and the Avengers moved themselves into the living room, with Stark saying he wanted to keep his ear drums in tact.

How rude.

We'd started with a round of singing to 'work up our appetites' according to Bertrand. He and Remi performed a 'Guys and Dolls' number, I followed with a song from 'Newsies', Britt belted out some Christina Aguilera and then we'd all joined in for some Dua Lipa.

After that, once the wine had been cracked open, they all commented on the fact that the Avengers were even still here to which I replied I couldn't exactly kick them out and I wasn't complaining anyway.

'Of course you're not - ' Bertrand said with a grin, winking at me. 'Have you seen them?'

'Yes I have seen them but I am a professional and can we please stop this conversation.' My eyes lingered over Bertrand for a moment longer. I knew that he liked red-heads - that was clear from Britt - but could be possibly have something towards Natasha?

No, that really was impossible. He and Britt were practically married.

'Well, you know they're all masters of espionage - ' Cari continued, sipping her wine and smiling.

'Basically.' Trish agreed and I pulled a face.

'I wouldn't call Sam a master of espionage,' I mused, cutting her off.

'And they've probably bugged your entire house and are listening in to us right now.' Cari finished, looking over at me and I rolled my eyes.

There was absolutely nothing worthy of any eavesdropping that went on under my roof. Absolutely nothing.

'Speak of the devil - ' Remi murmured as Stark walked into the kitchen.

'And I'm giving them nothing.' I confirmed, watching them all smile as I turned my attentions over to Stark. Had he changed his mind about the condition of his ear drums?

'What's the order of the night then?' He asked casually, leaning against the wall, and my eyes instantly narrowed. No way was this an innocent question. Stark had to have some kind of hidden motive, right? 'Karaoke, body shots, pole dancing?'

'Nah, Rae's already done all that.' Remi joked, shooting me a look and I internally groaned as I knew that Stark was not going to drop this tidbit he'd just been given.

'Oh, piss off  - ' I complained as Stark gasped and peered over at me with interest, a wolfish smile on his face.

'Do elaborate - ' He prompted and I wanted to bang my head against the table and slap the smile of his face at the same time.

Sadly, I couldn't do both.

'Yes, I was a pole dancer for 6 months. And I'm willing to bet that it was more strenuous than what Iron Man gets up to on a daily basis.'

This had been a fact I'd been hoping to keep to myself as I knew that it didn't give the best impression of me, mainly because of people's pre-conceived idea as to what a pole dancer was.

It was actually incredibly physically demanding and some of the girls who did it for years on end probably had bodies that would rival athletes. It was just a shame that some people only saw the girls as sluts who took their clothes off for money.

'Come on, Stark, we want to start the film - ' Sam's voice suddenly bellowed into the kitchen as he entered, flanked by Steve and Wanda.

I'd given up asking what film they were watching as they ranged from some obscure 70s flick that I'd never even heard off to the scariest horror film that had been banned in 12 countries.

I would sometimes listen to the noises echoing out the room and make my predictions as to what had been decided.

'Alright, alright, I'm just talking with our gracious host.'

After I'd been forced to show off my gymnastic ability in front of them, I'd felt like one of the barriers between us had been lifted. And while they still definitely weren't my friends, they felt less like random colleagues that I was being forced to hang out with.

'Rae's doing a pole dance - ' Remi announced loudly and I wanted to slap him, never mind Stark.

'Will you shut up - ' I shouted, glaring at him with a ferociousity that I usually saved for the most annoying of politicians. But Remi wasn't fazed by anything and simply smiled at me, taking a sip of his wine.

I knew he was only joking. And part of our humour was poking fun at each other.

'No, Remi's being a complete and utter prick.' I muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear and Remi pulled a face, as though I'd severely wounded his pride.

'Not the first time he's been called that - ' Bertrand chuckled, slapping Remi on the back.

'And I bet that - ' I was suddenly cut off by a knock on the door. I could hear the rain battering down against the windows and the sky was basically pitch black.

Who the hell was knocking at my door in the middle of what was basically a storm?

'You expecting someone?' Stark asked me and I shook my head, running a hand through my hair.

I didn't know what to say. My mind went blank. I didn't want to completely freak my friends out by saying a gang of assassins might be banging at the door.

But I also didn't want to cover up the immediate threat that could be looming over their heads.

'Stay in here.' I said firmly. I could feel Trish staring at me. She knew what I meant. Steve, Sam, Stark and Wanda were also staring at me, looking rather intense.

They knew what I meant too.

'Regan, do you - ' Steve started as I slowly moved towards the door.

'Just....be....alert - ' I said slowly, struggling to find the correct words. I knew my friends were tough. But that didn't mean I wanted them to have to face being attacked by the mafia.

Steve nodded, a flash of worry crossing his face.

My nerves sky-rocketed as I crept towards the door. Checking behind me, I saw that Steve was watching me out of the corner of his eyes.

His nerves were making me nervous. My heart was thudding as I listened to any sounds outside of the door, other than the thundering of the rain.

This seemed like a far more likely time for any attackers to launch - when it was dark and late, with the rain to mask any noise.

I peered through the peephole and my heart suddenly sank, my mouth dropping open, but for an entirely different reason.

I swung open the door, rain lightly dampening my face. Standing in my doorway, her arms crossed, her hair and clothes dripping and a very unhappy expression on her face, was Sophie.

I didn't speak. I didn't know what to say. She was here. Why was she here. Did she -

'Are you going to let me in or not?' She asked, her voice flat. I stumbled backwards, gesturing for her to enter as she passed, I caught a breath of her perfume. It was fruity and refreshing and just totally her.

The scent that I'd fallen in love with.

I wanted to hug her and punch her at the same time.

I was tuning out everything that wasn't her, the way she ran her hands through her hair and shrugged off her coat.

She looked exactly the same as the last time I'd seen her, still flawless and gorgeous and like a breath of fresh air. I'd expected her to change or something. But the fact that she was still living the same life yet we were both so different now was very unnerving.

'Can I - Can I help you with something?' I asked, self consciously playing with my hair and praying that the Avengers and the gang stayed in the kitchen. I didn't want anything to interrupt this moment, even though I could sense some anger in my voice.

Anger I hadn't known I'd wholly felt until now.

'You left this - ' Sophie said, not fully meeting my eyes, as she dug into her back and pulled out a sweater that I usually wore to sleep in and must have left at her apartment the last time I stayed over.

So, it wasn't that she had wanted to see me.

'Oh. Thanks - ' I murmured, reaching out and taking the sweater from her outstretched hand. She quickly retracted, folding her arms across her chest.

My mouth dried up. I didn't know what to say, now that we were actually meeting in person.

'I'm sorry.' Sophie suddenly said, her eyes flittering up to mine for a moment.

'About what?' My voice was small yet firm. Two sides of my brain were fighting for dominance - the side which wanted to forgive her and kiss her and never let her go and the side which knew that things were over and she needed to apologise.

'How things ended.' She clarified, the words sounding too vague to mean anything personal.

'You mean, you're sorry for sleeping with someone else.' It seemed like the vengeful side of my brain was winning.

'Because you were never there.' Soph shot back, her eyes narrowing. It was going to start again, wasn't it?

'I rang every night.' I defended, stepping closer. My mind was beginning to fizz with anger.

'A phone call can't just fix everything, Rae. You also spent every single waking moment working.'

'I happen to like my job, you can't hold that against me!' I said forcefully, watching her eyes drift to the floor.

She couldn't even look at me.

'I'm not going to stop working and doing something that I love just because you have abandonment issues and need constant attention.' I continued, venting out my feelings. Did she really think I would give up my entire livelihood for her? Because that wasn't a sacrifice I was willing to make, no matter how cold-hearted that made me.

The silence hung between us, perfectly reflecting the distance that had suddenly grown between us. Before this gap would have been filled with our voices but now it felt like the weight of the world was hanging between us.

That was, until I really listened, and picked up on the song that was emerging from the slight gap under the kitchen door.

'Oh I could love you better, better than you once knew. If you're cheating, cheat on, cause cheating's just a thing you do'

It was a song that I'd listened to a hundred times before yet the words had never resonated me as much as they had at this moment.

I knew that Soph could hear the words too, the way her posture suddenly stiffened and she looked me straight in the eye.

I simply shrugged; the emotion's in me too strong to be portrayed in any coherent form. And call me cruel, but I just felt numb.

I'd lost my energy from choosing between the truth and the lies that were being fed to me, that the dark side of my brain was forcing me to think.

Soph looked like she wanted to slap me, her hands clenched by her sides and her jaw tense.

But she didn't.

She simply turned on her heel, opened the door and stepped out into the rain, pulling her coat over her head.

'I hope that you and Jen are very happy together!' I shouted, wondering if my voice could be heard over the roar of the rain.

I watched her pull out into the road, her eyes blazing as she shot around the corner and out of my sight.

Because even when I was hurt and angry and alone, a small part of brain could still be petty and vengeful.

I closed the door and walked back to the kitchen. The gang was still singing, the words swelling out into the hallway as I opened the door.

Wanda and Stark were sat down at the dining table while everyone else stood, Britt and Trish perching on the front of the piano.

They suddenly stopped as I walked through the door, their eyes searching my face. I forced myself to keep my head up but didn't look at any of them in particular.

I was being drawn towards Trish and Steve in particular, maybe because they were the people I'd seen the most over the last couple of days, but I kept my eyes up and mouth closed.

'Did we go too far?' Cari asked gently, pulling her cardigan tighter around herself. She looked apprehensive; they all did.

I shook my head and the whole room let out a sigh.

'If there was an award for the most apt song choice then I reckon that would win.' I joked as Trish, Britt and Cari all descended on me and squeezed me tight.

'What did she want?' Stark asked, his voice sincere. I gestured to the sweater in my hands.

'I left this over at her place.'

'Well, that was nice of her.' Remi said, his voice clearly indicating what he thought of her. I shrugged again.

The gang then burst into song again, the words swirling around in my brain. I wasn't going to drown my sorrows alone. I was going to channel my feelings, whatever they were, into my song.

And show them that Regan Hamilton was not a pushover.

FEATURED SONGS:  
John Newman - Cheating

\- Thanks so much for reading, guys!


	30. Iwakāluakūmāiwa

I absent-mindedly stared out of the window, dunking my hands into the soothing warm soapy water. It was the next day, a Tuesday, and I was feeling like crap.

I didn't know whether it was because of the four glasses of wine that I'd consumed the night before or because of the emotions that were currently swirling around my head and digging themselves into my thoughts.

I had an inkling that it was the latter.

I'd downed a glass of water while making breakfast and then another one while eating my mixture of beans, toast, scrambled egg and hash browns to counteract the alcohol that was still working its way around my system.

The Avengers had been fairly quiet about the whole thing and apart from a few pointed looks and a short conversation with Sam, they'd left me alone which - to be fair - I was grateful for.

I still needed time to process the whole thing.

Sleeping in the same bed as Natasha had began to feel a little more normal and even having the Avengers staying in my home was beginning to feel a part of my daily routine.

The only downside was the amount of cleaning up that had to be done after we'd prepared and eaten a meal. There was so much that it wouldn't all fit into my dishwasher, forcing me to take the rest of the plates to the sink.

I didn't really mind much, I found it quite relaxing to look out onto the woods that surrounded my home and the trees softly blowing in the wind.

On the other side of the woods, once you trekked for about 5 miles, took you to a park so it wasn't as though people came walking through it every day, aside from the odd stray dog walker or hiker.

And that was why I payed extra attention to the shadows that I could see moving through the bushes. I squinted in the pale light, leaning forwards to try and see more clearly among the fallen leaves.

Nothing.

I blinked a few times, internally shouting at myself. It was the remains of the alcohol in my system messing with my brain.

I turned away, stretching up onto my toes to put the plates away. I was seriously thinking about just buying more.  That way I wouldn't need to constantly clean them all.

But then, when the Avengers did eventually leave and I was back to living on my own, I'd just have a ton of plates.

I turned back towards the sink, reaching for a fork, when I saw another shifting shadow among the trees. I could have sworn that I saw something.

It wasn't unusual exactly for people to be wandering around. There was a small lake about half a mile in that was frequently used to fish in, as well as dog walkers and hikers.

But no one ever got so far that I could actually see them from my kitchen window. Or thought that I could see them.

I had two choices: let it slide and forget about the mysterious shadows that I could see moving among the bushes or do something about it.

The fact that I had seven of the most important people on the planet under my roof meant that I couldn't possibly leave anything to chance.

It was time to go for a walk.  
***  
Fifteen minutes later, dressed in my sturdy boots and a thick coat and hat, I closed the back door behind me and set out into the woods.

I'd announced that I was going for a long walk to clear my head and no one had batted an eyelid, aside from Stark looking slightly frustrated that he couldn't leave the confinements of my house either.

I'd also joked that if I wasn't back in an hour then I was stuck in a bog or something, and they needed to call Trish to come and save me. This was only partly in jest - I didn't wholly know if my mind was playing tricks on me or not and I didn't know what I was walking into.

If the UN had taught me anything then it was being unprepared could get you killed.

Fall really had descended, my feet crunching under the crisp fallen leaves as I trudged up the hills and over the gnarled tree roots that reached out like fingers.

My face already felt cold against the wind and my eyes darted around, searching every branch and root for signs of anything out of the ordinary. I was torn between turning back now and admitting that I was being ridiculous or to suddenly turn on spy mode because if someone really was out there, then it couldn't be a coincidence.

I'd seen too many things to believe in coincidences any more.

And whoever was on the brink of trespassing on my last, must have somehow known that the Avengers were there. And I needed to find out the truth before anybody got hurt.

Or worse.

I was using every tiny skill that I'd ever picked up in the UN that involved tracking and following targets, as well as running through ways I could protect myself in my head.

I had my gun tucked in the back of my jeans, pressing firmly against the base of my spine. It had been a last minute decision, I hadn't planned on bringing it, but I had the lives of 7 people in my hands and I was going to risk anything.

I didn't want to have to use it but some people weren't as considerate.

The terrain under my feet suddenly got much more difficult and I carefully navigated my way through the rugged rocks and roots that were splayed out in front of me. My ears were listening out for anything that wasn't the rustling of the wind or a bird or a -

There.

I heard something. A voice. Coming from up ahead.

It could have just been a dog walker. But I didn't wan to take any chances.

I slowly brought out my gun, keeping my eyes fixed in front of me and crouching down. I listened again. There was definitely someone up ahead.

I crawled forwards a few steps, my hands clenched around the gun.

I suddenly caught a wisp of black among the trees in front of me. I froze. What did I do?

I lay down among the leaves, carefully trying not to crush any under my weight, hopefully hidden behind the jagged rocks.

In front of me was a group of 6 people all dressed in black. There was no dog or fishing rod in sight.

I instantly became weary. These guys didn't look like harmless civilians taking a morning walk.

I tried to pick up any features that I could use to identify them. But what if I really was being paranoid and that they were just a group of friends out for a hike?

No. I learned to trust my instincts over the years and something told me that this was wasn't right.

I searched their forms for anything that would give any clue as to their identities. They had no defining features that I could see, but none of them were fully facing me so this wasn't much to go at.

They were speaking in low, hurried voices in accents that definitely weren't fully American but I couldn't make them out over the rush of the wind.

I needed to get closer.

Gritting my teeth, I shimmied forwards a few more inches, my eyes pinned to the figures in front of me. If they gave away any sign that they knew I was there, then I would be off in a flash.

But I needed to know for sure what they were doing.

Suddenly, one of the figures looked up and I pushed myself to the floor.

Shit. Shit.

My pulse was racing and I could feel my breath hitting me back in the face as I breathed into the leaves. I kept every single muscle locked into position.

Had they seen me? I silently reached for my gun, praying that it wouldn't come to a gun fight.

I waited a moment. Nothing.

I slowly lifted my head, peering above the rocks to see that the group had continued talking. I listened hard, attempting to calm my breathing.

There! I heard the name Maximoff among their mumbling and my blood ran cold.

If I hadn't been sure before, then I was now.

They were definitely after the Avengers.

I'd had strict orders from Hill not to engage in any kind of conflict and that I was simply acting as a safe house while they lay low. I had to report any sign of suspicious activity.

I needed to tell SHIELD about this now.

And then evacuate the Avengers to a safer place so that this could all be resolved without anyone getting a bullet through their brain.

Now the question was, how did I get back to the house without being detected? Because I couldn't see any weapons on them, but I knew that this certainly didn't mean they didn't have any.

I slowly started to crawl backwards, keeping my head as low to the ground as I could and wincing slightly as the rough rocks rubbed against my legs and hands.

Keep going, Rae. Just keep going - 

I heard a series of frenzied shouts. They'd seen me. They'd seen me. Without even stopping to think, I jumped to my feet and started running, ducking under the branches as I forced my legs to run faster.

I heard gunshots and immediately started running faster, reaching behind me to let off a few shots towards where I could see the group were following me.

I didn't care about wounding or even killing them at this point, I just need to get back to the house to warn everyone and get them out in time.

But as I ran faster, the house coming into sight, I could feel the presence of the assassins behind me and the realization hit me.

There wasn't enough time to get them all out before hell broke lose. There simply wasn't time.  
   
And that meant....  
   
Well...I hope they'd brought their suits...  
   
\- Any thoughts?  
 


	31. Thirty

I sprinted back to the house at a speed that even Natasha would have been proud of, bursting through the door and hastily locking it behind me.

Right. Priorities.

'GUYS? GRAB WHATEVER WEAPONS YOU'VE GOT BECAUSE THERE'S A GANG OF ASSASSINS TRYING TO KILL YOU!' I screamed, rounding up the dogs and quickly herding them into the basement.

'What? Rae? What's happening?' Sam shouted, looking puzzled and I pushed past him and headed for the drawers were I kept all my guns.

'There is a gang of assassins currently heading for this house and in 90 seconds they shall be upon us.' I looked back at him, pointedly and handed him a gun. I was dizzy and my hands were shaking and my heart was beating much too quickly to be healthy but I needed to get my act together. 'So grab a fucking weapon.'

'YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE BECAUSE I'M NOT ABOUT TO DIE PROTECTING YOU IF YOU'RE NOT EVEN HERE!' I yelled again, my voice getting increasingly louder and high-pitched.

Above me, I could hear rushed footsteps and shouting and I pushed one gun down the back of my jeans, unlocking the safety off the other.

Sam had sprinted up the stairs, the gun still in his hand, presumably to get whatever he'd brought with him that he thought would be of use.

I highly doubted that Stark would have one of his suits packed into his duffle, so I was hoping that whatever he did have was going to be effective.

My mind was buzzing with questions as I quickly debated over whether to lock the front door. Who had the group been sent by? Brazil? Someone else the Avengers had pissed off?

I really did miss the days where foreign embassies didn't send their men to kill people that they didn't kill. But that was the world that we currently lived in and I wouldn't change anything by simply complaining.

'Can you someone explain to me what the fuck is going on?' Stark shouted, hurrying down the stairs strapping what looked like a metallic glove to his hand.

My heart sank. So he didn't bring the suit.

He was followed by the rest of the group, Steve clutching his shield, Barton wielding his bow and Natasha holding a particularly fearsome pair of batons.

Wanda and Vision didn't need weapons. They were weapons.

'There's a group of assassins coming to kill you.' I said bluntly, peering out into the kitchen and through the window to see if there was any sign of them.

There wasn't.

This just put me on edge even more.

'How many?' Natasha asked briskly.

'I saw 9 but there could be more.'

'Great. We're under attack in one of the least secure places ever, in the middle of a forest, with a HR employee.' Stark groaned as the Avengers all spread out, talking in mutters among themselves.

Did I not get to be part of the plan?

Well, that was not how it was going to work. This was my home and I was going to make damn sure that I protected it.

'Excuse me? Who do you think I am?' I spat, adrenaline fueling my body and my manners flying out of the window. 'This might not be Fort Knox but that doesn't mean I'm naïve to the fact people could come after me.'

I pulled out another box of gun cartridges and bullets, shoving a few into my pockets and stepping back and letting Barton, Sam and Natasha fill their pockets.

'What's the plan?' Wanda asked, shuffling awkwardly on the spot. Her face was deathly pale and she kept clenching and unclenching her fists. I took it that she wasn't fully used to fighting yet.

'Well - '

'So - '

Me and Steve looked over at each other, our words blending and mixing together.

That was awkward.

Steve technically was the leader of the Avengers but I usually ended up being the leader in any given situation anyway. And -

Suddenly, the back door was kicked in and the assassins spilled into the kitchen, all armed with guns and knives.

Steve grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to the side, out of their eye line. The rest of the Avengers pressed themselves up against the walls.

I pulled myself out of Steve's grip, shooting him an angry look and his face softened slightly and he opened his mouth as if he was going to apologise.

That was before a round of bullets got fired into the hall.

'The plan is to get the fuckers out of my house and stay alive otherwise Fury will demote me to a desk job for the rest of my life.' I said, taking a deep breath. This wasn't the time for jokes, but humor was a way that I kept my nerves under control.

'Regan, I want you stay at the back.' Steve murmured next to me as the others waited for their cue from him. I stared at him, watching his jaw grow tense.

Was he actually being serious?

'You did not just say that. This is my house - ' I protested firmly.

'You're the least trained agent here. And I don't want you getting hurt.' He said, his tone growing softer. Did he really care that much about one single agent that he barely knew?

'Well, it's not all about you, is it?' I said, ignoring his eyes that were boring into my skull and making me feel like he could see straight through my strong façade.

The assassins suddenly surged into the hall and Steve gave the signal, the Avengers flying forward in a flurry of kicks and punches and bullets and red beams of light, courtesy of Wanda.

But it was clear that these guys weren't just guns-for-hire. They were skilled and strong and more than a match for the Avengers.

I stood back, not by choice, but because I didn't want to accidentally shoot Natasha through the head in an attempt to get one of the assassins in the shoulder.

Ideally, we needed the assassins alive. That way, they could be interrogated and it would also be much better for diplomacy.

Because you weren't expected to kill another nations agents, even if they did come at you wielding guns. That was just rude.

Out of no-where, a black glad figure lunged at me and my intuition and SHIELD training kicked in.

I kicked out for his stomach, sending him staggering a little, and aimed a shot to his shoulder. He dodged the bullet, coming back towards me and catching me on the side of the face with his fist.

I didn't let myself stop, not even to address the burning pain that was shooting through my face. I fought back, kicking and punching and ducking his blows.

I couldn't hear myself think among the shouts and crashes and gun shots and the desperate pounding of my heart. I was sure I could the faint barking of dogs in the distance as I dodged another punch and reached for my gun, shooting him in the thigh and sending him to the floor.

I kept my gun aimed at his face which was partially obscured by a black mask as I looked up at the carnage in front of me, panting for breath.

Natasha and Barton were both tackling one agent who didn't look to be having a very good time. Steve was tackling another while Wanda was conjuring up red beams of light and keeping one man suspended in the air at the same time.

Sam was leaning against the wall, panting heavily and clutching his shoulder as Vision peered over him. I could see blood leaking through Sam's fingers and his face was contorted in pain.

Shit.

I shot another agent in the leg as he made a lunge at Sam and I saw him shoot me what I assumed was a thankful look from across the room.

A hand suddenly grabbed my leg and I was yanked to the floor, my face colliding with the wood. I groaned, my eyes blurring and pain shooting through me.

I rolled over, reaching for my gun as a figure loomed over me, re-loading his gun. Shouts of Rae reached my ears and I moaned, my hands reaching around the handle of my gun.

It was a bit late to be telling me of a potential attacker when his gun was now aimed at my face.

My movements froze. The agent was twice my height and twice my weight. He would be able to crush me in an instant. His foot was probably bigger than my face.

My heart was hurting it was beating so fast. If I didn't do something quick, he was going to get bored and shoot me in the face.

No one was saving me this time.

I kicked out against his ankles, distracting him for a split second so that I could shoot him in the shoulder and roll to my feet.

It didn't distract him for long though as he kicked out and punched me in the back, pushing me against the side-board.

I kneed him in the stomach as he wrapped his arms around me, lifting me off my feet.

Fuck. I hated being small.

I let out a yell, kicking and flailing in his grip but I couldn't do anything. My feet barely scraped the floor. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck as I writhed, my eyes scanning the room as I felt something cold and metallic against my side.

His gun.

But everyone else was fighting their own battles and not listening to my yells for help as I was thrown against the floor as though I weighed absolutely nothing.

Pain shot through me as I struggled to push myself to my knees. I felt like my brain was being shook around in my skull and my hands and chest was aching.

But I needed to keep moving.

I grabbed for the gun in the back of my jeans, quickly turning onto my back. The agent was stood poised above me, reaching around his back for something.

I had to act before he did. I shot him in the stomach as he brought out a gun, blood splattering onto my face as the man let out a howl and staggered to the side.

I had no concept of time anymore. All around me was noise and shouts and bullets. I didn't know how many agents were down or how many were still coming.

All I knew was that I couldn't let any of the Avengers die.

Stark suddenly shot past me with a deep scar on his face, sprinting up the stairs with another agent on his tail. The metallic contraption that was strapped to his hand was sparking slightly. I watched him fire his gun but nothing happened.

A look of immense panic appeared on his face.

He was out of bullets.

I stumbled to my feet, my bones moaning in protest, and reached for a gun on the floor. I couldn't remember which belonged to me and which didn't anymore.

All I knew was that it was filled with bullets.

Stark was currently being tackled to the floor by the taller agent, kicking and punching out against him.

I had to admit that even without his suit, Stark was a good fighter.

But even good fighters needed back-up.

I couldn't get a clear shot without hitting Stark too. Scrapping this plan, I kicked out and hit the agent in the back. He flipped around, leaving Stark on the floor and stepped towards me, punching and kicking in my direction.

I stepped backwards, aiming a shot at him but he dodged it. He too was double my height and weight and as he grabbed my arm and twisted it back, I felt a jolt of panic shoot through me.

I couldn't let the Avengers get hurt. And I'd do anything to prevent that from happening.

I struggled in his grip, but he held me tight, dragging my feet along the floor towards the stairs.

Fuck. Fuck.

I kept on kicking out, hitting him forcefully in the knees and his legs. I even aimed for his crotch but he lifted me out of the way before I could hit home.

I really hated stairs at this moment.

The gun was still in my hand but I didn't have any grip on the trigger. I could still see Stark lying on the floor, clutching his head and moaning slightly.

This wasn't going to end well.

Without knowing what was happening, the agent lifted me up so that my feet were no longer trailing on the floor. I would have made a joke about it being like that moment in The Lion King if the next moment I wasn't catapulted down the stairs.

The impact hit me harder than I expected as each step hit me like a bullet in the face. Pain ricocheted across my body as I cradled my arms around my head in attempt to protect my skull.

I heard someone shouting out my name, but I couldn't identity the voice. I couldn't open my eyes, the pain shooting through my skull was too great. Something warm and wet trickled down my face and through my hands.

Pain. That was the only thing that I could comprehend.

Pain.

\- No! Is Rae going to be okay?


	32. Trente Et Un

My head had never felt so heavy before. It was as though every hangover I'd ever had to endure were hitting my head all at the same time. And I was being attacked with a sledgehammer. And I had a migraine.

I slowly opened my eyes, cringing back against the light. It took me a few moments for me to realise where I was, the delirium still controlling my brain.

I was in my living room, lying on the sofa with a thick blanket wrapped around me, a pillow cradling my head. An arm chair was pulled up next to me, the cushions on it rumpled showing that someone had recently been sat there.

Someone had been checking up on me.

I shifted my weight onto my arms as I tried to push myself up into a sitting position and realised that it wasn't just my head that was aching. Every part of my body seemed to be made of lead and was throbbing like it was burning.

How did I get here? I wasn't one for taking naps during the day, especially not on the sofa. I cast my mind back, sifting through the memories of what I could remember: waking up, making breakfast, going for a walk...

Shit.

How had I forgotten?

My house had been attacked by some gang of assassins or mercenaries or whatever they wanted to call themselves. And one of them had decided to throw me down the stairs. I could still feel the pain shooting through my body as I recalled the memory.

It was a wonder I wasn't in hospital, really.

But how had I ended up at the bottom of the stairs? I'd...

I remembered. I'd seen an agent running after Stark whose weaponry had failed and he'd ran out of bullets. I'd distracted him, pulling him away from beating Stark into a pulp and then he'd turned on me.

That was why everything was hurting.

I suddenly began to panic as my mind seemed to click back into place.

The Avengers. Were they okay? Had any of them been hurt? I had a faint recollection of Sam clutching his bleeding arm but that was all I could remember about the fight.

That and feeling like someone was beating at my head with a hammer.

I needed to find some answers. I needed to find the Avengers, period. And that meant moving.

I'd definitely coped with worse injuries in my time at the UN but as I forced my legs onto the floor and rose from the sofa, I wondered if the doctors had been exaggerating my past injuries because every muscle in my body felt like it was shaking.

As quickly as I could bare to go, I forced myself to walk towards the kitchen. I could hear some quiet yet irritated voices emerging through the partly-closed door and I immediately questioned whether there was some important sports game on that I'd forgotten about.

Staring through the crack in the door, I saw the Avengers all seated around the dining table playing what looked like Sorry. Each of them had a drink in their hand and a smile on their face and I relaxed a little, knowing that none of them were really hurt.

Sam's right bicep was wrapped in a tight bandage and I saw him wince as he moved to put his glass down on a coaster. But at least he wasn't lying in a hospital bed, bleeding his guts out.

I suddenly realised that in my hazy mind, I'd completely skimmed over the fact that Steve wasn't in the room. Where was he? The others didn't seem to be bothered, which led me to believe that he hadn't been shot in the head.

Then where was he?

The delirium was still hanging around in my brain and I pushed through the fog, trying to make out what they were all saying. I didn't know why I didn't just enter the room.

Maybe it was because sometimes, my insecurities and self-doubt could win over my mind and I needed to know what people thought about me.

'Who knows, guys?' Natasha said with a grin, taking a swig from her bottle. 'He seems pretty stoic about it all.' Who were they talking about? Steve? Someone I didn't know?

'Nah, he won't be able to control himself.' Tony replied with a similar smirk. 'He'll talk before the end of the week, I'm sure of it.'

'Yeah, did you see him when Rae fell? I don't think I've ever seen him move so fast. And I've seen him move pretty fast - ' Sam said and my ears perked up at the mention of my name.

They must been talking about Steve, I reasoned, seeing as he was the only person not in the room. But why was I relevant to the conversation?

'And he's still with her now.' Barton continued. 'He's been almost an hour - '

What? Steve had been the one checking up on me? He'd been watching me while I was unconscious? That was kind of messed up on so many levels.

'But I don't think he thinks of her like that.' Barton finished, putting extra emphasis on the that. How did Steve not think of me as? What the hell were they talking about? 'He's like that with everyone - '

'He most certainly is not, bird boy.' Stark said confidently but Barton continued. And I began to get the feeling that I knew exactly what they were talking about.

Because they didn't have more important things to think about...

'And they're both so different. She's too snarky for him.' I immediately raised an eyebrow at this, regretting it as a surge of pain shot through my head. Is that what Barton really thought about me?

'You haven't shared a bed with her.' Natasha commented. 'She hasn't got her walls up all the time. When she broke up with her girlfriend, she basically cried for the entire night.'

I cringed at the memories. I'd tried to keep my sobs as quiet as I could, but evidently not much got past a master assassin.

'I didn't know that.' I heard Sam murmur as I took one step closer to the door.

'Precisely. This is a girl who talks to her dogs and sings show tunes in her spare time and campaigns for world peace. She's exactly like Cap in all the ways that matter - she's stubborn and protective and isn't afraid to say what she thinks.'

'So you're saying - ' Stark prompted and I held my breath.

Yeah, Natasha, how long do you think it will take for Steve to admit that he's madly in love with me?

'I'm saying in the next month and - '

I didn't catch the rest of her words as I was suddenly very aware of the light footsteps that were padding towards me and it seemed as though I could only comprehend one sound at a time.

I slowly turned around to see Steve at the bottom of the stairs, a surprised but happy expression his face. He didn't seem to have been beaten too badly, apart from a large bruise on the side of his jaw.

Well this was awkward. Being caught eavesdropping by Captain America.

'It's good that you're up.' He said, running a hand through his hair. 'How d'you feel?'

'Like my head is filled with cotton wool.'

'You really should be resting though.' He chided me, his face growing serious.

'I'm fine.' I said firmly. I did not want to be babied by the Avengers. 'I probably look worse than I feel.'

'You look really good for someone who was thrown down the stairs.' He replied and something in his tone made me flush slightly despite being able to feel the bruises that were lying on my skin.

'I'll take that as a compliment.' I murmured after a moment, turning back towards the door to see Sam throwing 10 bucks in Stark's direction.

They were betting on us now?

'What are you doing?' Steve asked quietly, coming up behind me so that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

'Eavesdropping.'

'What are they talking about?' Steve asked again, as the whole group started laughing and I swallowed the nervousness in my throat.

'Us.'

I didn't want to even think about the connotations of what this meant and I definitely didn't want to look at Steve's face to see his reaction. Because everyone was being delusional and I was the one who'd been pushed down the stairs.

Steve definitely, 100% did not have any romantic feelings towards me and I didn't feel anything for him either. He was a really nice guy from what I'd gathered, maybe even a little too nice.

But there was nothing romantic. Nothing. Nada.

'Hasn't anyone made lunch?' I said, stepping into the kitchen and silencing the room. 'Do you expect the magical elves that live in my kitchen to do it for you?'

It was though I'd risen from the dead, judging from the looks that the group were giving me and I rolled my eyes. I was fine.

'Its 4pm.' Vision said slowly, breaking the silence in the room and my eyes widened. When I'd come back from my 'walk', I was sure it had only just passed 10:30...

I'd been out for over 6 hours?!

'Well then.' I murmured, more to myself than anybody else. 'I hope someone saved me some leftovers.' Next to me, Steve was glaring down at Stark and gesturing for him to move. It was only after Stark moaned to his feet and Steve gestured for me to sit down that I realized what had happened.

I would have protested, saying that there was no need for Stark to move, but my body was betraying me. I had the feeling that if I didn't sit down, I wouldn't be on my feet for long.

'What happened after I fought the stairs?' I joked, shooting Sam a smile and trying not to display the pain on my face. He smiled back and that was when I noticed his arm was gingerly placed on the table.

So his arm hurt more than he was letting on too.

'We managed to take the other guys out and then SHIELD came over to take them back to base.' Barton explained.

'And then we checked you out, made sure you weren't dead - ' Stark continued, leaning against the door frame.

'How very thoughtful of you.' I interrupted.

'And then cleaned up all the bullets and broken glass.'

'I must be rubbing off on you.' I mused with a smile and Stark rolled his eyes. 'So you're now playing Sorry?'

'Just finished actually. Barton won - ' Natasha said, with a sickly sweet smile on her face and I guessed that it hadn't exactly been a fair game.

'Just get over it! I beat you!' He said exasperatedly, but with a grin on his face.

'So what're we playing next?' Steve asked and I crossed my arms.

'Shouldn't I chose?' I said nonchalantly. 'I was the one who was knocked unconscious by my own stairs.'

'We were kind of surprised you weren't dead.' Stark said bluntly and both Sam and Steve shouted at him. This wasn't exactly a push though, considering the amount of dirty looks I'd received walking through the corridors at SHIELD.

'You won't get rid of me that easily.' I said. 'And I say we're playing Pictionary.'

And you'd think I'd just announced Christmas was cancelled.

'No, I refuse!' Sam shouted dramatically, shooting Steve a scathing look who rolled his eyes in return. 'This game is rigged!'

'Don't be such a sore loser.' Steve teased, his whole face lighting up. I didn't think I'd ever seen someone so happy to be playing Pictionary.

'Yeah Sam, get a grip - '

'No, Rae! You don't get it! The guy went to freaking art school! This isn't fair!'

Well that was a fact that I had not known about Captain Steve Rogers. And I rather liked the image of big, tough Captain America feeling happy with just a pencil and a pad of paper.

'It's been a while since I've done any serious drawing, I might be a little rusty.' Steve said gently, holding up his hands bit Sam wasn't having any of it.

I, for one, was rather enjoying this little argument because Sam always got very witty when he was angry.

'Considering I'm the one who is letting you stay here and I also fell down the stairs for you, you should let me play what I want and Pictionary is one of my favourite games.' I stared over at Sam who had crossed his arms in frustration.

But, because no one can win a staring contest with Regan Hamilton, he finally gave in.

'Okay, fine. But don't kill me when he destroys everybody!' Sam said, pointing an accusatory finger at Steve.

'I'll go and get it then,' Natasha said with a smile. Wait...

'You found my games cupboard?' I said, more to myself than anything. Great. Now they all knew I really was a nerd and had cupboard specifically for board games.

'Yeah - '

The group started conversing among themselves and I reached for an unopened bottle of beer before quickly retracting my hand.

Alcohol probably wouldn't be the best option right now.  
   
'Regan?' I looked up suddenly as Stark addressed me by my full first name.

'Yes?' It sounded oddly formal coming from his lips and 'formal' wasn't a word that I tended to associate with Tony Stark.

What the hell did he want to talk to me about?

'I - I wanted to thank you. For - you know - saving me and all.'

'Oh - ' This was not what I'd expected at all. He was actually thanking me and looking totally sincere and vulnerable as he did so.

I'd been painting Tony Stark as some kind of Machiavellian villain who not-so-secretly wanted to kill me and I'd become so consumed by this image that I'd forgotten some of my own principles.

That there was much more to him than first appeared and if I judged him wholly on our first meeting, then I was being no better than the arrogant jackasses that I hated so much.

Because you didn't get to where Tony Stark was without having a few breakdowns. And I wasn't going to judge him on the ways that he decided to cope with them.

'Because, you didn't have to do that. I have been, sort of a dick to you. Okay, a big dick. So...thanks...' I could have responded with a witty comment, because he had been a dick to me.

But I decided that I wasn't going to do that.

'No problem. You act as though you're surprised though - '

'What do you mean?' He asked, looking puzzled and I could feel Steve staring at me from across the room where he was a filling a glass with water.

'You think I would have joined SHIELD if I didn't have at least some belief in what they were doing? Because I believe in what you all stand for. And Tony Stark's a pretty big part of what you stand for - '

'Not that I couldn't have fought him off myself or anything.' He shrugged nonchalantly, as though he hadn't heard a word that I'd said, but judging from the sincere look in his eyes, I knew that he had.

'And, you know, just for the record you do look like a genetically modified Dalmatian.'

And there was the Tony Stark I'd come to know. So my bruises really were that bad...

'Quit while you're ahead, Tony.' Steve joked, passing me the glass that he'd been filling with water.

And as Nat came into the room clutching my battered box of Pictionary and Sam and Steve started arguing again, I finally began to feel that maybe I didn't have to be so isolated after all.

\- Any constructive criticism?


	33. Treinta Y Dos

Over the next two days, my bruises slowly began to fade and the stuffy feeling in my head began to disappear. I took it easy on the training front, keeping up with my flexibility and gymnastics practices. And while sometimes I did feel like giving up when I couldn't perfect a leap, the sight of shirtless Avengers walking around was enough to motivate me.

Because sometimes their workouts got so intense that clothing needed to be removed.

And I was all for that. Because have you seen Captain America's abs?

We also ended up going through the entirety of my games cupboard and playing every single board game in there. As Sam had promised, Steve absolutely demolished everybody else at Pictionary but I couldn't really complain because he looked so happy to be actually winning at something.

And he was actually a really good drawer.

On Thursday evening I received a call from Hill saying that they'd interrogated the agents who attacked my home and had managed to neutralize the threat.

It was all a lot of diplomatic speak that I'd had to grow accustomed to which basically meant that they'd beat the shit out of the agents and it was now safe for the Avengers to come out of hiding.

It also meant that I could go back to work, something that I felt both happy and sad about.

So, early on Friday morning, I headed out to work followed by a trail of Avengers who were being picked up by some SHIELD issue vehicles.

I knew that it was going to be very weird to come home at the end of the day to a practically empty house but it was a good thing really, because it meant that they weren't living in fear of their own lives.

I'd received very little information as to who the agents actually were however, and I had countless more questions that were floating around in my brain.

Why was no one giving me the answers? What were they all so afraid of me knowing?  
   
***  
   
I only had to spend 10 minutes within the SHIELD building to know that the attacks against the Avengers had rattled some cages.

Security had been massively upped, with dozens more security cameras littering the corridors and a retina scan guarding the door to prevent unwelcome people from entering and exiting the compound.

And while I spent the entire morning replying to messages and emails that I'd missed while being off, it felt good to be doing something productive again, despite the pain that would shoot through my body every time I moved too quickly.

I had never been particularly good at working from home. It was too quiet.

I'd had very little contact with the Avengers since arriving back at SHIELD as they'd quickly been ushered into Fury's office and I'd returned to my own office.

I'd definitely felt a change in the atmosphere when I'd been preparing breakfast this morning, still sleepy and half-delirious from sleep. Because they'd gone from being my co-workers and superiors to my house mates and they were going back to being my co-workers and superiors.

I'd also, in the week that the Avengers had been staying with me, seen them all at their most human and vulnerable. I knew that this should be how I considered them all anyway, seeing as they should be people first and their superhero counterparts second.

But still. I'd shared a bed with Natasha Romanoff. She didn't seem quite as terrifying as before. But I was still pretty wary of her.

Just before lunch I received an e-mail saying I was requested for a meeting in Fury's office immediately. It had to concern everything that had happened in the last week; that was the only thing that had happened.

What if Fury thought I'd mistreated his precious babies? Would he have me working overtime?

Whilst weaving my way through the crowds of agents heading for the cafeteria, I was very pleased to see the familiar figure of Trish ahead of me and hurried to catch up with her.

Of course we'd talked in the last week, and she'd come over a handful of times, but I hadn't been able to tell her much about the whole situation.

Firstly, because the details were considered confidential and I was endangering everybody's life if I spilled them. And secondly, because I didn't actually know many details so I couldn't tell her even if I wanted to.

I quickly caught her up with everything that had happened in the last week, partly skimming over the fact that I had been thrown down the stairs because I knew she wouldn't react well.

Though Trish wasn't stupid. She would clearly be able to see the bruises through the make up I'd applied this morning.

'I can't believe they actually came to your house.' She breathed after a moment, looking worried and I smiled, trying to reassure her.

'That's what happens when you baby sit superheroes.' I said jokingly.

'And I obviously want all the gossip. So, you know, spill - ' She said with a smirk and I rolled my eyes.

'So I might have eavesdropped a little...' I admitted but really I was admitting nothing. Trish knew just how curious, and borderline nosy, I was. 'They're taking bets on when Steve will admit his feelings for me.'

'He has feelings for you?' Trish half-shrieked, her eyes widening and I shot her a look.

'No, that's the whole point.' I said firmly. 'The whole thing's ridiculous. He's known me less than three weeks and there's no way that he could possibly think of me like that.'

'And what do you feel?' Trish asked teasingly and I nudged her in the ribs.

'I've known him less than three weeks. And I barely know him at that. And you do know that we're talking about one of our co-workers here, right?'

'And?'

'I don't know him well enough to feel anything other than respect.' I said, not looking Trish in the eye. 'I know Captain America and the nation's hero but I don't know Steve Rogers.'

'But they're the same person - '

'No they're not. I can't expect him to live up to a name that he didn't even ask for.' Trish nodded thoughtfully for a moment as we pushed through the oncoming surge of hungry agents. My own hunger was beginning to grow in my stomach; I hoped this meeting wasn't going to drag on.

'You lived with him for a week. You must know some things.'

'I know that he's a pretty decent cook. And he's a really good artist. And that he's pretty fun and he likes dogs - ' I said, listing them off on my fingers and Trish stared at me.

'And that doesn't sound like the ideal man? Are you insane?'

'I don't know him.' I repeated, stepping away from Trish to let an agent pass between us.

Yes, he did sound like the dream man on paper. But then, a lot of things did on paper. And I wasn't about to go and give my heart away to someone that I didn't even really know.

Like Sam had said on many occasions, it was hard to find someone with shared life experiences.

Even if he did seem like a perfectly decent guy and have nice abs.

I left Trish outside the cafeteria and made my way towards Fury's office, her eyes staring me down as I turned the corner.

I was feeling a little anxious and a little puzzled as to exactly what Fury wanted to talk to me about. Was he going to answer some of my burning questions?

I hoped so. Or I'd have to ask the questions myself. Or seek some alternative sources of information.

I paused for a moment outside of the door to straighten the red cardigan and black dress that I chosen to wear, adjusting my necklace and running a finger through my hair.

Through the glass doors, I could see Fury standing in front of his desk and sat in front of him were the Avengers.

My anxiety doubled. So this meeting was about everything that had happened recently.

I politely knocked on the door and waited a split second before pushing it open and stepping into the room, feeling as though I was a deer caught in the headlights.

'Agent Hamilton, please take a seat - ' Fury gestured to an empty chair next to Wanda, his voice giving nothing away as to the topic of this meeting.

I took my allotted seat, my palms feeling sweaty as I sat down.

'Hamilton, I want to thank you.' He said suddenly and I blinked for a moment. Had he heard him correctly?

'Whatever for?' I asked tentatively, the confusion clear in my voice.

'For taking care of some very important assets while a situation was dealt with.' He replied.

'It's my job, sir.'

'It might be. But at no point did you sign a contract agreeing to have potentially the most dangerous people on the planet under her roof.'

Potentially dangerous? They may have been intimidating at first but they'd all spent the better part of the week drinking and playing Pictionary. And they were not the hobbies of the scariest people on the planet.

'It was no issue, really.' I said after a moment, wondering if they'd happened to mention the tumble I'd taken on the stairs. Or if my bruises were showing through.

'And despite you having a penchant for punching diplomatic officials in the face - '

'This is where I'm supposed to promise never to do it again, isn't it?' I interrupted suddenly, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. 'But I can't say that.'

Fury didn't answer me for a second, just stared at me with his brutally intimidating gaze. I couldn't say that I would never do it again because what if another diplomat was being a dick?

'I can see that you would only ever act in SHIELD's best interests.' He finished and I nodded. 'Don't let me down.'

'No sir - '

'And apparently...' he continued, an amused tone in his voice as he left my gaze and looked over at Stark.

Shit. What had he gone and said now?

'I've a lot to look forward to at SHIELD's annual karaoke night.'

My eyes slid to Stark who was sporting a huge smirk and I inwardly groaned. I could feel everyone staring at me, reliving the memory of me singing in their heads.

It wasn't that I was embarrassed of my singing ability - in fact, I was proud of it - but the fact that the director of SHIELD was now resembling a high school principal made me feel a little...small.

Or at least smaller than usual.

'What you do in your spare time has nothing to do with SHIELD, Agent Hamilton.' Fury said after a moment with what I thought looked like a smile. 'And you may go now.'

I slowly rose to my feet, feeling the blush on my face but attempting to cover it as I walked briskly towards the door.

'Rae?' I turned back at the sound of Sam's voice, the sound of the nickname that only my friends used offering a stark contrast to my official titles.

'Yeah?'

'Thanks again. Really. Thanks for looking after us all - ' My blush began to deepen as the Avengers all shouted their thanks and how grateful they were and how amazing my cooking was.

I was never very good at accepting compliments anyway and to have a whole room shouting them at me was more than I could cope.

But if felt...good. Still embarrassing and nauseating but good.

'It was no problem.' I repeated, wrapping my arms around myself. 'And I might even go as far as to say that I enjoyed some of it.'

\- Thanks for reading!


	34. Trentatre

Later that day, I was rudely dragged away from the mountain of work that I was trying to work through by Trish in order to attend an interrogation class. But this wasn't a class teaching how to survive an interrogation, it was a class on how to interrogate.

And while I had interrogated people on various occasions, this definitely made me feel much more nervous.

I'd been given much more training on how to withstand interrogations - in case I was ever captured so that I wouldn't spill all of the UN's secrets - than I had on interrogating targets.

I was always willing to learn, though.

Even though the class wasn't an compulsory one, I was surprised to see that only a handful of recruits had chosen not to take the class.

This made me feel even more nervous because there were more people to see me muck up.

As I'd predicted, Natasha was taking the class and she very quickly rattled through some interrogation technique. I tried to remember everything that she said and process it into my brain, but between my anxiety and the look of slight terror on Trish's face I was having a hard time taking everything in.

After 20 minutes of her talking us through some basic technique, we were suddenly catapulted right into the deep end.

And I was not in the mood for swimming.

SHIELD had a suspected war criminal - or at least a suspected member of a terrorist organization - currently in their custody. And our mission, with no choice on whether we accepted or not, was to interrogate him to try and gain some information. We'd each be allowed 15 minutes with him before we were taken out and Natasha would give us some pointers on how to improve.

The fact that she had enough trust in us all to actually interrogate a possible terrorist was both commendable and slightly terrifying.

But I was going to give it my best shot.

We were all ushered into a corridor and told to wait until our name was called. Trish looked like she was going to be sick, despite her attempts to keep her calm façade up.

'You'll be fine - ' I murmured quietly, leaning over and squeezing her hand slightly. She nodded, not meeting my eyes, as the first agent was called away.

It was hot guy number 3 who wasn't as hot as his fellow hot guys but was still very attractive. But even he looked slightly nervous as he was led through the metal door.  
***  
4 hours later and I was the only recruit yet to interrogate the suspect. I had no idea how Natasha had been going through the recruits, or whether she was just picking at random, but I felt like it was so cruel irony that I was the last remaining.

I'd say bye to Trish around an hour ago and it was clear that once your 15 minutes were up, you disappeared out another door. And while I knew this was the case, it did give the impression that they were being killed off or something.

It had begun to get the point where I was almost begging Natasha to appear around the door and call my name because I was getting so damn bored.

I'd counted every tile on the wall and picked at my nails and re-done my ponytail three times. I was being driven slowly insane by the walls of the corridor that seemed to be encroaching down on me like some kind of benevolent being.

'Hamilton? You're up - ' I was yanked out of my daze by Natasha suddenly appearing around the door with her arms crossed.

I nodded, my legs feeling almost stiff after not using them for so long. I stepped towards the door, noticing the look on her face that made me halt. 'What is it?' She paused for a moment, biting her lip as she leaned against the doorframe.

'What d'you think of Rogers?' She asked slowly, the ghost of a smirk on her face.

Really? Was she really asking me this? I was getting slightly sick of all this speculation about myself and Steve.

'Okay, this is bullshit.' I said strongly and if Natasha was surprised my words she didn't react. 'Why does everyone care about the non-existent relationship that I have with...Steve - ' 

Okay, calling him by his first name definitely made it seem like there was something going on. Or did it? Was it just that my brain hadn't fully recovered from its hit the other day?

'I'm just asking! Stark things you'll confess your feelings by the end of the week.' She had a suspicious glint in her eye that made me think she knew that I'd been eavesdropping at the door.

But how could she? And why did it matter? It was my house anyway -

'Well I don't feel anything so that won't happen...'

'He definitely feels something - ' She murmured and I felt my eyes grow to the size of saucers. What did she just say? What?

'Why? What - What's he said?' I stuttered, cursing myself for sounding so concerned. I didn't feel anything other than respect so why was I bothering? 

'Things.' Natasha said with an nonchalant shrug, the possible terrorist all forgotten for the moment. 'I'm a spy, I can pick up on the subtle things.'

'And these things mean he has feelings for me?' I mused again, watching Natasha smile slightly.

No. What was I doing? I was working and had a job to do and needed to get my mind back on track.

Because even if everything that she'd just said was completely true, I didn't reciprocate those feelings for Steve. Yes, he was nice and attractive and not a total jerk but I didn't have the overwhelming compulsion to kiss his face off whenever I saw him.

And I had bigger things to focus on at the moment than a relationship.

The possible terrorist, for example.  
***  
'Your 15 minutes start now.' I stared back into the face of the man I was interrogating, his dark eyes narrowing.

I'd had 10 seconds to think of my strategy and while I knew it wasn't the cleverest idea, I was going to have to roll with it and see where it got me.

I was going to use all of the skills that I built up over the years to creep him into submission.

I was basically going to stare at him for as long as physically possible without talking while I pondered over my next move.

The interrogation room was identical to every other training room that I'd seen at SHIELD; it was small and square, with a table, two chairs and a mirror on the wall. Although it wasn't a mirror, it was a one-way pane of glass.

I had been given a pad of paper and a pen on which to make notes but one of the rules I'd picked up from the UN was to never let your enemy or rival know what you were thinking.

So that's why I started scribbling in Norwegian. Firstly, so that it would look like I was deciphering his entire life story. And secondly, so that he wouldn't be able to read what I was writing which was actually utter rubbish.

But if he could read Norwegian upside down, then that was more kudos to him.

Pushing through my nerves, I looked up to meet his gaze and take in his appearance. He was fairly tall, about 6 foot, with dark hair, dark eyes and tanned skin. His clothes didn't give anything away as he was dressed in a baggy SHIELD jumpsuit.

I then tried to look closer, looking for any possible thing that would give me some leverage in this conversation. Or rather, the conversation that we weren't having because I was staring at him.

Testing the waters, I stopped writing for a moment and flashed him the biggest, warmest, most welcoming smile that I could manage.

Maybe if he thought I was on his side, he might be more inclined to tell me more details.

He didn't react for a moment, his eyes burrowing down into my soul, but then smirked. It was clear he didn't think much of me - his smirk was sarcastic and patronizing.

But it did give me a chance to have a look at his teeth. Which looked remarkably clean and straight for a suspected terrorist.

So that was one thing.

But him having good teeth wasn't exactly the information that I presumed Natasha was looking for.

I swallowed hard and flicked my eyes away from him, scribbling down some more nonsense in Norwegian. I felt him watching me as I moved my pen across the page.

Who knew that silence could be so terrifying? Well, the only thing that broke the silence was the incessant ticking of the clock.

I needed more. I needed to know more.

I surveyed him one more time, taking in the way his hands casually lay out on the table and the confident look in his eyes. His arms and shoulders were surprisingly muscled too, as though he'd been lifting a lot of weights recently.

I didn't know that terrorists were given gym memberships.

But then I didn't really know what he'd been lifting, did I?

His eyes met mine again and a sudden jolt struck through me. He looked familiar. Something in his face was familiar. I'd definitely seen him before.

But where? Where could I have possibly seen him before?

As I continued to rack my brains, the clock ticked forward and 10 minutes soon passed. I saw his eyes flicking up to the clock and back down to me several times in the space of a minute and this caught my attention.

Was I interrupting his schedule? Did something normally happen at this time back at terrorist HQ?

No. 5:30pm was the time that the majority of the agents got to go home and those doing the night shift came in. Unfortunately, I wasn't one of those agents and nor was he.

'What's your name?' I asked suddenly, feeling my enemy - time - creeping up behind me.

'Don't you know my name?' He said slowly, flexing his hands as he did so. His accent certainly fit the information that I'd been given. And yes I did know his name, but I playing the dumb card.

A card that I didn't like playing but still.

'Altaras.' He said after a moment. He pronounced it differently to how Natasha did. Maybe she'd just got the pronunciation wrong?

But I knew that she wouldn't do that. No, she knew his name. So either, Altaras was deliberately saying his name wrong or something more suspicious was going on.

I started scribbling, my thoughts leaking out onto the paper (after filtering through my inner translator).

He was in good shape and he had good teeth. He also had what looked like the remainder of a nose piercing. And I'd never met anyone who was supposedly working against the government who found the time to go to the dentists or go to the gym.

He also kept looking at the clock. So either he just liked knowing the time or this was usually his tea time. I wasn't sure. But something definitely happened at 5:30 that was significant to him.

The pronunciation of his surname was also sticking out in my head. He'd said his own name wrong.

I began to form a picture.

A picture of a man who cared about his health and wellbeing as well as poking bits of metal through his skin, a man who cared about going home at 5:30, a man who hadn't quite remembered the name that Natasha had told him 4 hours ago.

A man who definitely wasn't a terrorist.

A man who was definitely a SHIELD agent.

The world suddenly began to make sense.

Why would SHIELD get a bunch of their newest recruits to interrogate such a potentially dangerous suspect? Natasha could trust us with the world but there was no way that Fury would allow this to happen. They wouldn't give us that much responsibility.

And while I couldn't be 100% that the man sitting before me was a SHIELD agent, it was beginning to look like the most likely option.

Because the place where I recognized him was the SHIELD agent database. I just couldn't put a name to his snarky, rather chiseled face.

Natasha suddenly appeared at a second door located at the back of the room, her eyes giving nothing away. 'Time's up.' She said sharply.

I was right. I was sure I was. I just couldn't get his name.

I rose to my feet, taking the pad of paper and pen in my hand and trying to read my illegible Norwegian scribbles as I left the room.

'So, what did you get? Considering as you asked him one sentence.' Our earlier light-hearted conversation seemed like a  
billion miles away right now.

Maybe she didn't like me calling her ideas bullshit.

'Simon Rossum, a SHIELD agent.' I said, his name suddenly clicking into my mind. 'He's married, with two children and lives over in Harlem.'

Natasha didn't react for a moment, her eyes just narrowing slightly and I knew I'd got it right. A surge of confidence flew through me.

'You don't have access to dentists when you're running around plotting to blow up important people. And you don't have time to go to the gym either.' I handed her the pad of paper and pen back, which she took without saying a word.

Maybe I'd discovered a new interrogation technique? Scribbling nonsense in Norwegian and stare the enemy into submission.

\- What did you guys think? Any thoughts?


	35. Vierunddreißig

I quickly found out that while the majority of my theories had been correct, one was slightly mistaken: Rossum hadn't been checking the clock because he wanted to go home, he'd been checking the clock because his new shift was due to start.

Given everything that had happened surrounding the Avengers in the last week, Fury had upper security and this meant a bigger agent presence on the compound. In short, everyone now had to stay later.

I also learned that Trish had headed home after her interrogation as she had a medical appointment so this forced me to change my plans to have a sociable evening - instead of eating in the cafeteria, I would eat in my office and reply to what seemed like the never-ending pile of e-mails.

I weaved my way through the groups of agents that littered the corridor and entered the cafeteria, the overwhelming smell of food causing my stomach to rumble. I was really hungry.

And today, there was curry on the menu. Life was good.

I'd received an e-mail today, forwarded from the UN, reminding me of the Peace Gala that was being held in Prague in 3 days time which I was obviously going to be attending, on behalf of the UN.

Peace Galas were practically my entire reason for living - they allowed me to network and socialize between the various diplomats and embassies and generally improve relations between everybody.

But because I was being sent by the UN, I had instantly checked my calendar to make sure I had no late-night assignments to complete on behalf of SHIELD. Because while I was now working for SHIELD, I was also technically a part of the UN and worked under Ross.

And so the whole thing could become slightly difficult, if I didn't handle it correctly.

I was going to be working with a UN team of agents and I was thrilled to see that Nim and Jared were on the list, meaning that I would get to catch up with them as well. I'd missed being in the loop of every little thing that happened within our office and was desperate need of some gossip.

I'd managed to do some digging and had found that SHIELD were also sending a team of representatives to the event, no doubt wanting to achieve the same goals as myself. I'd also managed to find the list of the agents attending and on that list happened to be Steve, Stark and Natasha.

Well, they were the most publically recognized and diplomatically interesting. Basically, more people would want to talk to them than some random guys from logistics.

I wasn't quite sure what my own role would be yet but it would probably be translating for some official diplomats because that was what I usually ended up doing.

And then I'd be dragged into some crazily fast Italian dance like last year. And that was a experience that I would never recover from.

'Regan! Regan!' I suddenly shot around, the plate of curry balancing precariously in my hands. I still wasn't used to people addressing me via my first name. I was more accustomed to a harsh shout of 'Hamilton!' echoing down the halls.

My eyes quickly locked onto the source of the noise by a hand waving at me through the crowd. And why wasn't I surprised?

Stark.

I begrudgingly started to make my way over to the table where he and the rest of the Avengers were sat. I really didn't fancy having this conversation on opposite sides of the hall.

'What? I'm hungry and I want to eat.' I said flatly, but a small smirk rose to my face as Sam winked at me.

Stark was sporting a rather large smirk himself and that alone made me nervous. He was leaning back in his chair and suddenly shot Steve a sly look before turning back to me. Steve was looking exasperated.

Oh no.

'Stark, don't you - ' Steve started but Stark ignored him.

'Would you go out on a date with Cap?' He asked and I almost dropped my plate.

I didn't know what to think. I didn't know how to answer. My answer was no. Was it no? Yes. It was.

'Why? Is he asking?' I replied, swallowing the lump in my throat.

'No, he's not.' Steve shot back, looking like he wanted to throttle Stark.

Oh. Okay. So he obviously didn't feel anything for me at all, regardless of what Natasha had said.

But his face suddenly softened, his gaze turning towards me rather than to Stark. 'No! I mean - I don't want to offend but Stark's just being childish.' He corrected himself and I nodded.

Okay...so....he did feel something?

'Aww, why not?' Stark pouted. 'I think you'd make a cute couple. You could go around punching people and call it a date.'

'And is this proposal in order to try and fulfill the bet that I know you're all involved with?' I asked sharply and I saw everyone's movements still as they stopped eating.

'What bet?' Barton instantly replied but I ignored him.

'Yeah, what bet?' Steve echoed, his gaze turning towards Stark because let's be honest, Stark was probably the orchestrator of the whole thing. 'What bet?'

'Your esteemed colleagues are betting on when we'll 'confess' our 'feelings' for each other.' I said, enjoying the sight of Stark squirming slightly under Steve's razor sharp gaze.

'No Steve, it wasn't anything like that - ' Sam started but he trailed off, seeing that Steve had passed the point of simply being annoyed. He was irritated. Really irritated.

And it was understandable, really. I wouldn't want people messing with my personal life, even if it was harmless. But was the prospect of going on a date with me really so anger-inducing?

'Is that true?' Steve asked Stark, everyone else at the table seeming to fade away into the background - even Natasha who was currently guzzling down a milkshake.

'Calm down, Capsicle, it was only a bit of fun - ' Stark protested, holding up his hands.

Obviously, Stark and Steve didn't have the same type of humour. And I was eager to stop this situation from progressing any further because really, it was clear that they hadn't meant anything malicious behind it.

And I really would be being pathetic if I let some unfounded rumours surrounding me get the better of me.

'Look, I know you need fun times like these to get yourselves through the tedium of everyday life but I actually have work to do before the peace gala.' I said bluntly, folding my arms and cutting off any further protests from Stark or Steve.

'Oh, would that happen to be the gala that I am also attending?' Stark asked with a grin and I rolled my eyes.

'For some reason you've been selected - '

'It's because I'm so handsome.' He said, turning back towards his food. 'My dashingly good looks make everyone fall in love with me and not want to nuke us.'

'That's not really something to joke about, Tony.' Steve said, shooting me an concerned look. What? Did he not think I'd been around enough people who would fleeting give an order to nuke a city without a thought for the consequences?

'And while your methods may work for some people,' I said, tucking some hair behind my hair as I resisted the urge to start eating my curry with my fingers, 'some people have to be able to fluently speak in all of the official UN languages and I need to brush up on my Arabic.'

'You're not representing SHIELD?' Natasha asked, turning away from her conversation with Barton and Wanda to look at me.

I sighed and bit my lip. I knew that this would cause problems. I was really on the side of the good of humanity, so what did it matter what logo I happened to be wearing?

Seemingly, it mattered quite a lot to some people.

'I representing both.' I said, my years of experience telling me to pick the most diplomatic answer. 'But I'll be wearing a UN badge.'

'I thought you worked for SHIELD?' Sam inquired, his brows furrowing.

'I do.'

'Then why - '

'Because Ross isn't good at completely cutting ties and he refused to lose an 'asset'.' I said after a pause. 'But it really doesn't matter. The UN and SHIELD should have the same principles about protecting human life and that's what I'm representing.'

\- Any thoughts guys? And what do you think is going to happen at the Gala?


	36. Тридцать пять

After wolfing down my dinner and only pausing to answer emails, I decided to get in a little more gymnastics practice before I went home. I might as well take advantage of the facilities while it was reasonably quiet and there weren't too many agents milling around - and those that were milling around wouldn't be paying me too much attention.

And what started off as a fairly easy training session soon turned into a hard-core practice that lasted for well over an hour and I finished up being drenched in my own sweat.

Since starting practicing gymnastics more seriously, I'd developed bruises in places that I didn't even know I could have bruises. These, coupled with my bruises from being thrown down the stairs, left me looking rather purple.

But I didn't really mind. In the moment, when I was completing a flip on the beam and was able to land on my feet, made all of the bruises and pain worth it.

But after an hour and a half, I began to tire and knew that I needed to head home soon. I hadn't been lying when I'd said I needed to brush up on my Arabic because I really did.

The gala was in less than 72 hours and I needed to be on top form.

Picking my sweaty, exhausted body off the floor I switched off the light and left the room, making my way towards the locker room that was located in the center of the floor to be almost equidistant from all of the training rooms so that agents could store their bags and belongings and well as take a shower.

Not that many people took showers. It seemed to be some kind of unspoken rule that no one used the showers.

But evidently someone was disrespecting this unspoken rule because as I entered the locker room, I could hear the rushing of water coming from one of the shower cubicles.

The locker room was a fairly large, completely tiled room that consisted of several shower cubicles and lots of blocks of lockers. It strongly reminded me of the changing room back in high school, but without the incessant gossip and back-stabbing.

There were no separate sections for men or women, so it was basically a massive free-for-all; if you wanted to hide behind one of the pillars, you could hide behind a pillar.

Whenever I could, I always went for locker 9 because 9 was my lucky number. I didn't know why, I had absolutely no reasoning behind it, I hadn't had any vivid dreams about it ; it just happened to be my favourite number and I always gravitated towards it.

Sagging down on one of the benches that separated the rows of lockers, I ran a hand through my hair and wiped some sweat from my forehead. While my gymnastic progress was slow, it was definitely progress.

I'd moved onto tumbles and flips on the beam as well as on the floor and while they didn't always go to plan, when they did it made me remember just how much I loved gymnastic.

The fact that I was filming it all also meant that my progress was impossible to fake; Natasha, Barton and Steve would be seeing all of the sweat and the tears that I was putting into it.

And that was both embarrassing and encouraging.

I peeled off my workout clothes and replaced them with a fresh pair of leggings and a t-shirt. The shower really was calling me - I couldn't wait to remove the layer of sweat that was coating my body - but I knew that I'd feel more comfortable showering in my own home.

I also couldn't be bothered going through the hassle of washing my hair.

I rested on the bench for a couple of minutes, my muscles feeling too heavy and tired to move from this spot as the gushing water from the showers suddenly cut off.

I was going to have to interact with another agent and they were going to have to see me looking like a sweaty, shriveled up potato.

Great.

I suddenly looked up as the footsteps that I'd heard approaching from the showers stopped.

Oh.

Oh.

I mean, it was Steve. Dripping wet. Dressed in a towel. And nothing else.

He instantly blushed as our eyes met and I quickly looked down at my feet, cursing under my breath. It was clear to see why so many people were madly in love with the man - if it wasn't for his loyalty and bravery, then his physical attributes could definitely be a factor.

I mean, looking that good should be illegal.

'I didn't expect anyone to be around, sorry - ' I stuttered, keeping my eyes pinned on the floor as I slipped on my heels and Steve opened his locker and awkwardly stood in front of me.

Get a grip, Rae. You've seen half-naked men before.

'No, it's okay. I - just - ' He gestured towards his locker and I swallowed. The man wanted to get dressed and obviously didn't want to do it while I was staring at him like some kind of freak.

'Right, I won't look. I promise.' I said hastily, turning to face the lockers to make it very clear to him that I wasn't looking. I really wasn't looking. But it still felt like I was.

I started braiding my hair, if only to give my hands something to do so that they weren't awkwardly hanging at my sides, as I heard Steve moving around behind me.

He was probably naked right now.

Just think about that, Rae.

It was hard not to think about that. And as I tried to make my head focus on the movements of my hands as I braided, I could hardly think of everything else.

Before the silence could suffocate me even further, I decided to break it.

'I didn't know you used the showers here.' I said, my voice sounding strangely hoarse.

Get a grip, Regan. Get a fucking grip of yourself.

'Mine is a bit temperamental.' He replied, sounding a lot more confident than I felt.

'Captain America can't afford a decent shower?' I joked, trying to diffuse some of the awkwardness in the room.

'I was willing to compensate on the water for the area.' He explained. 'It's quite near to where I lived as a kid and if I have to put up with dodgy waterworks, then I'm willing to.'

I mulled this over for a moment, thinking it was taking him an age to get dressed. But then I remembered he'd also have to dry himself off after his shower. No Rae, don't you dare think about that -

'Brooklyn right?'

'Yeah, we're both Brooklyn bred.'

'I was actually born in Manhattan.' I admitted, biting my lip.

'What? No way - ' Steve sounded almost offended, as though I'd been pretending to be from Brooklyn all this time. And that made me smile.

'Yeah, I lived in Harlem when I was little. I only live in Brooklyn by chance.'

Both my parents had been born in Manhattan and the only reason that I lived in Brooklyn was because that was where my Godmother had lived. And was where I now lived.

'Okay, you can turn around now.' Steve finally said after what felt like an eternity. I turned around to see him now dressed in a pair of jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt, his hair still damp and sticking up in every direction.

'Are all your shirts too small?' I teased, reaching into the locker for my coat and he rolled his eyes.

'I - well, I - I'm sorry for what the rest of the team have been saying, about us. It must be getting kind of annoying.'

'Don't worry about it.' I brushed his apology off with a small smile. I'd been ignoring every comment that I heard about the whole thing, determined to spend my time on my work instead of worrying about gossip. 'But it's got a little further than the Avengers now. I've heard lots of agents talking about it.'

He pulled a face which was something between a grimace and a roll of his eyes as he reached for his sneakers, before suddenly looking up at me.

'It's not because I don't like you or anything - ' He stuttered and I nodded, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

'I get it.'

'They're just being stupid and childish.'

'I know. And I'm used to gossip.'

'Because I do, I do like you. And - '

'It's fine. I get it, really - '

'But - '

Before Steve could ramble any further, the locker room was suddenly plunged into darkness, as was the corridor outside. I could barely see five yards in front of my face but as I squinted, I saw Steve leap up from his seat.

'What the - ' I heard him murmur and I instantly raised my guard up, my senses heightening.

'Fuck.' I finished for him, muttering the word under my breath as I lifted my hand and felt it touch the lockers to my left to center myself. 'The sprinklers better not go off like last time, I don't need a cold shower yet.'

I strained my ears to hear any sounds coming from the lower floors. Were we being attacked? Was the lighting just being dodgy? I didn't know.

All I knew was that I could barely see anything. And that scared me slightly.

'Hill told me the sprinklers went off three more times while we were hiding out,' Steve said, his voice sounding a lot closer than it had a moment ago and this made me pause.

Three times? Really? That wasn't just a fault, was it?

'There really must be some dodgy maintenance going on or something.' But something in the back of my mind told me that this seemed much too convenient a reason for what was happening. And there times? Coincidences didn't happen like that.

'I don't suppose you have a flashlight, do you?'

'Actually, I do.' I said. I reached my hand across the lockers and found my bag that was resting on the bench. Pulling open the zip, I found the small light that I always kept in there purely in case of emergencies.

I didn't know whether this could be considered an emergency yet.

Flicking on the light and squinting slightly against its harsh glare, I searched around the room for Steve, finding him only a couple of steps in front of me.

'Great. Now we need to - ' Before he could finish speaking, the lights suddenly flickered back on, apart from one bulb in the middle of the room.

'Oh...' I clicked my torch off again, blinking against the light. What had just happened? Had all the lights really fused because of one singular bulb?

'Well, I guess everything's okay then.' Steve said, running a hand through his hair and wearing a slightly puzzled expression.

'Yeah, I guess so...'

\- Another chapter down! Prepare for some intense gala action coming up next!


	37. 三十六

\- I thought that instead of writing everything Rae and Jared say in Norwegian and then having to translate it at the bottom, I'd just right everything in English instead. But you've got to imagine it's in Norwegian :D

After a weekend spent practicing my gymnastics, brushing up on my Arabic and cuddling my dogs, Monday evening finally came around meaning one thing: it was the evening of the gala.

An evening that I really wanted to go well. For everybody's sakes.

I was going to the gala with the rest of the SHIELD agents in a SHIELD-issue plane because it seemed silly to drive over to the UN HQ for a lift when we were going to the same place: an opulent ballroom in the center of Prague that would be crawling with the most powerful people in the world.

The journey from SHIELD to the ballroom would take around 5 hours, given the shocking speed that SHIELD aircraft could travel at, and I gave myself a good two hours to get ready before I needed to leave the house.

I hated being rushed. And I wanted to make an effort for tonight because when I felt at my best, I was at my best.

There was no room for error tonight.

I still didn't know which official I would be translating for so as I secured my hair with pins and sprayed it with half a can of hairspray to keep every lock in place, I was running through the six official languages of the UN in my head and perfecting my pronunciation.

My face and arms were still littered with bruises from the attack last week but with a steady hand and a lot of concealer, I'd managed to cover enough of them so that they couldn't be used as a topic of conversation and could just be put down to some rather unflattering lightening.

I'd opted for a long blue-green sleeveless dress with a pair of long silver earrings and an impressive pair of towering heels from my collection - not only was I obsessed with dogs, I was also obsessed with shoes. Not only were they beautiful, they were also practical to increase my height from midget status to normal person status.

It was one of my favourite ever dresses, given it was in my favourite colour, but one I hadn't worn for a long time since it had been nearly a year since I'd last attended a gala. A bonus feature was that it wasn't too scandalous to make the cover of any major newspaper because this was the UN after all and they were still dress codes in place.

I'd made plans with Trish to dog-sit for the night, a duty that she always seemed to have, because I wasn't sure what time I would be returning but I knew that it would certainly be in the early hours of the morning.

Or, if it was nearing an acceptable hour for a human to be awake I might just stay at SHIELD in order to catch some precious hours of sleep. Now that I had a pull-out bed in my office, the sky really was the limit.

Just as I was re-applying a layer of lipstick, the doorbell rang. It was 4:35, 10 minutes before I told Trish to be here for. She, like me, was always prompt.

'You're definitely going to be getting some foreign dignitaries in a tiz.' She said by way of introduction with a smirk on her face as she surveyed my appearance.

'Calm down, I'm just doing my job.' I said, stepping aside to let her enter as the dogs ran over to greet her.

'Doesn't mean you can't look hot doing it.'

It most certainly did not and while that wasn't my primary motivation, it was nice to hear that I didn't look completely hideous.

'Thanks so much for doing this,' I smiled, stepping away from Stella before she could jump up against my legs. I wasn't wholly sure whether the dress was dog-proof or not and I didn't want to test it now.

'It's no problem. I spend the night watching your films and eating your popcorn - it's a grand old time.' She laughed, tickling Muffin behind the ears. 'Isn't it?'

'I'll text or call you once I know what the situation is.' I told her, reaching for my clutch bag that I'd filled with my phone, a lipstick, some Czech crowns, a couple of spare hair clips, my SHIELD and UN ID cards and my gun.

It was second nature by now. And the time that I forgot my gun was the time I got shot in the head.

'Sure thing. Have a good time!' Trish called as I waved her goodbye and hurried down the steps towards my car. I was running slightly early, something that calmed my nerves only slightly, but I didn't know the state of the traffic and didn't want to hedge my bets.

The roads were surprisingly empty, despite it nearing 5pm on a Monday afternoon. Or they weren't really empty but had less cars than they normally did.

I didn't know how I felt about this.

The fact that I still had no clue what my assignment for the night was was filling me with anxiety as I drove ever closer to the SHIELD base. I liked to prepare and practice and think of every eventuality; I did not like surprises and while I had had to learn to think on my feet over the years, I didn't mean I liked it.

I'd been doing galas for long enough, however, to know that whatever I was thrown on arrival in Prague I'd be able to handle.  
***  
   
10 minutes later, I had arrived at SHIELD and been told to make my way down to the loading bay as Natasha, Steve and Stark were already on the aircraft.

The word 'aircraft' sounded awfully fancy and as I descended down in the elevator, a flutter of nerves erupted in my stomach. I had to learn to control my slight fear of flying over the years because a large part of my job was visiting other countries around the world.

And while I averaged about one plane trip a month, it didn't mean that I really felt any easier about the entire experience.

I stepped out onto the loading bay, noticing the handful of wayward glances from passing agents as I walked towards the largest plane that I could see. I was aware that I looked much fancier than the agents who were dressed in their uniforms but they didn't need to make me feel like a zombie.

Suddenly panicking that this wasn't the right plane at all, I saw Natasha step out and peer out into the crowd, as though she was looking for someone. Her eyes met mine and she nodded.

Ah. She was looking for me.

I almost slammed straight into a group of agents while my eyes stayed pinned to Natasha. She was wearing a floor-length black gown with a deep slit up the side, her hair draped across one shoulder and her ears sparkling.

Who was I kidding? I looked like a gnome compared to her.

'Glad you could make it,' she said with a smile, folding her arms. 'Cap was beginning to get antsy. He doesn't like being late.'

'Sorry.' I murmured, gazing into the plane where I could see Stark and Steve talking among themselves, their heads turned away from me. They were both wearing immaculately tailored suits, their hair elegantly brushed to one side, and I felt my heart skip another beat.

Was this a requirement to be an agent of SHIELD that I hadn't know about? That you had to be stunningly gorgeous?

'Don't worry about it.' I flashed my SHIELD ID card at the detector at the door and waited a moment before the light flashed green. I remembered back to several years ago where I misplaced my UN card and I wasn't allowed on any missions for a week at the off chance that I wasn't actually Regan Hamilton.

'You look amazing by the way.' I called to Natasha as I stepped onto the plane and felt the butterflies in my stomach flutter a little.

'You clean up pretty good yourself.' Stark suddenly said turning around to face me, followed by Steve.

'Thanks,' I said with a roll of my eyes, noticing that Stark had a particularly expensive watch around his wrist. Was that a normal watch or did it have some kind of James Bond like properties?

'Seriously. You look good.' Stark repeated sincerely and I felt myself blush a little. Steve hadn't said anything; his eyes were fixed on me but his focus wasn't. It was like he was looking at something beyond me that I couldn't see.

Or at least, that was what I picked up.

'Come on Cap, stop staring at the poor girl. You're freaking her out.' Stark joked, slapping hip on the shoulder in the manly way that I noticed a lot of agents doing. Steve blinked a few times and hastily looked towards the floor.

'Sorry. Just...thinking about something - ' He murmured, flashing me and smile before turning away.

'I bet you were - ' I thought I heard Stark murmur but I couldn't be sure as the planes engines suddenly kicked in.

There were a number of agents already sat down with their belts fastened, quietly discussing tactics and plans for the evening. The door slowly closed and I felt a flash of panic.

Calm down, Regan. It's just a plane. You've been in active war-zones. A plane is nothing to worry about.

'Do I get a headset?' I asked, in an attempt to keep my mind on other things, as I saw Natasha touch the side of her ear. She nodded, reaching for her clutch and passing me what looked like an ear plug.

This took me slightly by surprise. I hadn't been expecting to get one, seeing as I was officially on the UN team, and my mind instantly started to wander - was this something other than an ear piece?

I carefully pushed aside my air and fixed it into my ear; I'd spent almost an hour curling and arranging it and didn't want to ruin it before I'd even got to Prague.

'You might want to sit down. Things are going to get pretty bumpy.' Stark told me before nudging Steve with his arm and whispering something to him.

My eyes narrowed. Whatever.

But this was a good idea, nevertheless. I didn't want to be feeling nauseous when I was talking to some foreign president and throw up all over his priceless suit.

I sat down opposite Natasha and fixed my seat belt as Steve and Stark came and sat next to her. Steve's eyes kept flickering towards my face and then hastily moving away five seconds. It was making me jumpy.

'Do I have something on my face?' I asked bluntly, after two minutes of his wandering glances. I saw Stark smirk and would have pressed him further if the pilot hadn't suddenly called out my name.

'Incoming call for Agent Hamilton.' What? Who had access to this plane? Who could possibly be -

Oh.

'Rae Rae? You there?' I cringed at his use of my nickname but smiled at the sound of his voice.

'Yes, I'm here. And no 'Rae Rae' Jared, I'm on a mission.' I chastised him, knowing he'd be smirking from ear to ear right now.

'Fine. I didn't know translating was so serious - '

'You know who I'm translating for?' I interrupted suddenly. 'Who?'

'Your old friend Annette Larsen. You've translated for her before - '

'Yeah, I remember.' I said, casting my mind back. Annette was the wife of a rich Norwegian oil baron who had contacts with the Russian mafia, among other things. While her husband was scary, Annette was perfectly nice and had a fondness to gossip.

My heart relaxed. The only thing I had to worry about was my ear falling off from her talking at me all night. But that meant -

'So I spent the entire weekend going over Arabic for absolutely no reason?' I mused, inwardly groaning and Jared chuckled.

'Looks like it. How's your Norwegian?'

'Not as good as I'd like it to be.' I admitted, seeing Natasha's eyes pinned onto me.

'Why don't we have a practice then?' Jared said and something in his voice made me pause. He wanted to talk in Norwegian so that nobody else would know what we were saying. No one else on this plane could speak Norwegian, I'd checked all their files this morning.

'Sure.' I said, my voice suddenly dropping into Norwegian. 'What's up?'

'Is this line secure?' He asked.

'Think so. And you're lucky that no one on this plane can speak Norwegian.'

'I was hedging my bets a bit. But anyway, your mission isn't just to translate for Larsen.'

'What do you mean?' I asked, my eyes narrowing slightly before my expression relaxed. I had to talk as though myself and Jared were having a perfectly normal conversation and he was just testing my Norwegian, not that he was telling me some confidential information.

'Ross got some intel that there's going to be a threat against T'Challa's life.' I slowly digested his words, all humour in his voice gone.

'And why doesn't SHIELD know about this? Surely it's a joint issue...'

'He didn't say.' Well that definitely sounded like Ross. 'But I'm guessing that this intel might have come from a SHIELD agent.'

'And how the hell would they know anything?' None of this was adding up. How would a SHIELD agent know of a threat against T'Challa? Unless they were directly involved...

'I don't know but Rae, extra agents are being sent out to keep track of him. Ross wants to keep in his good books - '

'So what's the plan?' I sighed, meeting Stark's eyes from across the room. They were beginning to look slightly suspicious. I smiled and winked at him, watching him roll his eyes and look away.

'Half the team is going to be keeping track of T'Challa and the other half are going to be looking for any sign of attackers.'

'And what am I doing?' I asked, slightly hesitantly. This was not an outcome that I had been anticipating.

'Translating for Larsen and look out for any threats.'

'And to pursue them?'

'If needed.' I was suddenly glad that I'd brought my gun after all. 'And Rae, you can't tell anyone. Not even your new SHIELD buddies.'

'But why? If there is a threat on his life then surely everyone needs to be looking out for him?'

'I'm just following orders, Rae. Ross gave strict instructions to keep this quiet.'

'I'll be the one to ask him what the hell he was thinking next time I see him.' I mused, thinking what Ross's reasoning could be. Surely he could put his ego aside to see that the logical approach was to get as many organizations involved as he could?

The question was: did he care more about his ego and his reputation or the life of a human?

This was officially the worst plan I'd ever heard. So now, I had to not let SHIELD know I was looking for T'Challa's attacker and not let the UN know that I was actually not looking for his killer and was instead trying to protect him.

At least, that was my plan at the moment.

'Anyway, I'll see you there, Rae.' Jared finished, dragging me out of my thoughts. 'See if you can spot me.'

'But what are - ' Jared cut me off before I could finish and I could imagine the mischievous smile on his face.

'Well?' Stark prompted and I swallowed the lump in my throat. I couldn't tell them anything. Not that a man's life was in danger. Nothing.

Ross definitely had some things to answer for.

'Well?' I repeated, not knowing what he was asking me. I needed to act naturally, as if I really had just been practicing my Norwegian and discussing the life of a king.

'Who's Annette Larsen?' I sighed. That was all he wanted.

'The wife of a Norwegian oil baron. She's very chatty.'

'How do you even know Norwegian in the first place?' Stark continued, folding his arms. Did he suspect me? Was that why he was pushing me for questions? I studied his face.

No. I was being paranoid again. I needed to trust my own abilities.

'You know Cari? CariDee?' He took a moment to remember and then nodded. I made a mental note to tell her that Stark knew who she was and whether she wanted an autograph.

'She was born in Oslo and when she came to New York she spoke very little English. We all ended up learning Norwegian to help her out.'

Stark didn't reply, simply nodded and looked towards the floor. This plane ride was going to be a long one if we were all going to sit in silence for the entire duration.

But talking could end up digging myself into a hole and being forced to answer some awkward questions. But they didn't know anything. And while I didn't like it one bit, even I had to follow a direct order.

'What're your missions?' I inquired after a moment, smiling in what I hoped was a friendly manner.

'Show how great SHIELD is.' Stark answered. They seemed to be doing a lot of this lately and I instantly wondered whether I'd just made things worse by punching that official in the face. But then again, he had been being an ass.

'It's Cap's first time at a gala.' Natasha teased, shooting him a look and Steve rolled his eyes.

'Really?' I'd presumed that him being the glowing face of America he would have been shipped out to more official dinners and outings than I had. But apparently not.

'Yeah.'

'You'll be fine.' I promised, nodding in a way that I thought was encouraging. 'Just...four words of advice. Keep smiling, no matter what anyone says. If you're lying about something, no one has to know, just go with it. Don't say your honest opinion about anything because then it'll be used against you. And keep away from the people you know don't like you otherwise by the end of the night they'll all be talking in whatever language they speak about how many 'affairs' you've had or how you got kicked off a plane because you looked underage.'

Steve nodded slowly, digesting all of my words. But Stark just looked amused.

'That last one sounds like you speak from experience.'

'Oh, I do.' I said, cringing at the memory. 'There was a German wife of...somebody...who had it out for me and found out from someone that I got kicked off a plane when I was 18 because I looked like a 12 year old.'

'Really?' Natasha asked, looking a little incredulous.

'Oh yeah. I grew about 2 inches in the entirety of my teenage years. I was, to put it simply, the definition of a midget.'

\- Any thoughts guys? What do you think is going to happen?


	38. Trinta E Sete

\- Again, let's imagine that all the conversations Regan and Annette have together are in Norwegian, unless stated otherwise.

We arrived at the gala just as the doors were opening and the swarms of foreign diplomats, politicians, heads of state and minor royalty were entering the historic ballroom that was located in the center of Prague.

The plane had dropped us off in a nearby parking lot, with orders to return in six hours time. Six hours of forcing smiles and making polite small talk and searching for the true motives hidden behind the million dollar dresses and pungent cologne.

I couldn't complain though. I thrived like this. I always enjoyed events like this and the same would definitely be said for tonight - if there wasn't a threat hovering over T'Challa's head.

As soon as we entered the venue, I instantly began to wonder who would be stupid enough to attempt anything tonight. The security was off the scale. Every single door, window and inch of corridor was crawling with black-suited agents clutching small hand-held guns.

And everyone was doing a brilliant job at pretending that they couldn't see them.

I entered the foyer, trailing behind Steve, Stark and Natasha. I'd lost sight of the other SHIELD agents. I didn't know what their individual missions were but I now presumed that they were also involved with the security.

My heart suddenly jolted as I took in the sight in front of me. There were long lines of guests straggling in the foyer, all queuing up to be patted down by security teams. A separate group of security guards were also checking our bags and any items of luggage that we were bringing into the venue.

Shit. My gun.

How was I supposed to protect T'Challa now?

Fuck.

I needed an idea. And fast.

Just as myself, Steve, Natasha and Stark began to inch forwards towards the ballroom where the lilting sounds of a 50-piece orchestra were emerging from, I slowly crept off to the side and pretended to look at my phone.

I needed to hide my gun. And then hope that the security teams wouldn't be that thorough to check every inch of my body. And if they did, I could file them for sexual harassment.

Hiding behind one of the huge stone pillars that littered the foyer, I quickly took my gun from my clutch and debated for a moment. I could either hide it in my bra which would give me weirdly shaped boobs or hide it down my stockings which I'd decided to wear at the last minute because I really didn't like being cold.

Stockings then.

As covertly as I could, I lifted up my dress and tucked my gun in the side of my stocking. Thankfully, everybody seemed much more bothered in their own actions rather than my own and I thanked the gods for this.

Done. And all without getting any funny looks. At least I hoped no one had been staring at me.

I emerged from behind the pillar and tucked my phone back into my clutch, as though I'd just been answering a phone call. My hands were jittering slightly.

Get a grip, Regan.

I snuck back in the line next to Natasha and watched as her posture instantly stiffened, her eyes narrowing towards me. Everyone knew how much was riding on tonight and it was making everyone suspicious. I rolled my eyes in what I hoped was a convincing manner.

'Phone call. Trish. She's dog-sitting for me - ' This seemed enough reason for as she turned her attention back to the security guard who was now asking for her bag.

Phew. That was one problem solved. And there were about a million more waiting for solutions.

As in firstly, why anyone would want to attack a world leader in front of this much security.

Why anyone would want to kill T'Challa was also beyond me - he was a fair and just leader as far as I could tell whom was liked by most people.

I passed my clutch over to the security guard and raised my arms. My entire plan all hinged on the guard not detecting my gun through the huge bow of fabric that was located at the top of my thigh.

That was another reason I liked this dress; there was a lot of excess fabric in which I could hide things.

I still wasn't on board with keeping this whole thing from SHIELD. My whole position at SHIELD was one built off trust and I was throwing that back in their faces by openly lying to them.

But Ross really would kill me for going against a direct order. And I didn't really want that to happen.

Who was the agent who spilt the beans? I'd got no word of an attack on T'Challa's life so how had they? If there was an agent within SHIELD would was spilling secrets then surely that agent needed to be dealt with?

I held my breath as Natasha was allowed through and the guard turned to me. Steve and Stark had already been let through and I could see them hovering by the entrance: Stark was casually looking around while straightening his cuff-links while Steve was frantically looking around.

How would they react if they knew I was lying to them? From what I could tell, they had only just started to trust me and now I was completely abusing that trust.

But I wasn't doing it maliciously. I was doing it to protect T'Challa as well as Ross and the agent who'd told him about the attack.

Whoever the fuck they were.

Surely they'd be okay with that, wouldn't they?

I swallowed hard as the guard passed me my clutch back. His hands were cold and foreign as he rand them across my sides and around my waist. He reached my thighs.

If he found the gun then I might as well be dead already for the trouble it would get me in.

But he skimmed past my thighs and straightened up, giving me a nod and a tight smile. 'Enjoy the party, Miss.'

A surge of triumph passed through me as I smiled widely and stepped past him, careful not to trip on my shaking legs as I walked into the ballroom.

I was in.  
   
***  
I stayed firmly next to Stark, Steve and Natasha for the first ten minutes upon my arrival. This was mainly because I had yet to identify Annette Larsen in the crowd but also because I was beginning to feel guilty about keeping such a pivotal piece of information from them and faking a smile and building up a façade with them made me feel so much better.

Obviously.

The ballroom was lavishly decorated and fitted out with an all-you-could-eat buffet and champagne bar. But this wasn't the type that you got at weddings or third rate Christmas parties; this food was serving the most important people in the world and that meant that it had to be amazing.

Even Stark seemed to be impressed with the champagne and that was saying something.

I quickly grew restless, however, with simply circling Stark's feet like a lost puppy and knew that Annette was very unlikely to seek me out herself. I also wanted to find out where Jared and Nim were hiding and keep one eye on T'Challa before he got swarmed by diplomats.

Steve was deeply engrossed in conversation with Stark so I gently tapped Natasha's arm. 'I've got work to do, so I'll see you guys later.' She nodded, taking a sip from her glass which instantly made me a little jealous.

But I couldn't afford to be tipsy, not right now. There were too many lives riding on my ability to keep a straight head.

I passed by Stark and Steve, my eyes searching the crowd for a woman with an icy complexion and platinum blonde hair, no doubt chattering to a large group of similar women. I caught a few words of their conversation.

'Come on Cap, it's just one dance - ' Was Stark asking Steve to dance? Really?

I shook my head. No matter who Stark thought Steve should ask for a dance, it didn't matter to me. Because I had work to do. Actual work to do.

I weaved my way through the crowds searching for any sign of Annette, Jared, Nim or T'Challa. I found that I recognised a lot of the diplomats and could identify them by the name, testament enough to the hours that I'd spent in ballrooms like this over the years.

I picked up fragmented bits of conversation as I worked my way through the crowd, talks of affairs and scandals and rumour that could bring whole nations to their knees.

And then on the other hand, some would simply be an embarrassing front page read: how some foreign prince was illiterate or his parents were actually first cousins or he wore a wig to cover his baldness and heels to add to his height.

This was a peace gala for some of the most influential adults on the planet and yet some of the conversations I was hearing would have been more at home in the halls of my high school.

Suddenly I spotted a tall figure draped in an extravagant royal blue gown, her bleached-blonde hair towering on top of her head and her wide, red-lipped smile gasping in amusement.

I smiled. Some people really never changed.

I smoothed down my dress and pulled myself up to my full height, that wasn't particularly tall anyway.

'Good evening, Ms. Larsen.' I said sweetly, watching her dark green eyes dart between the gaggle of women in front of her and my face.

'Oh Regan, dear, how lovely to see you again - ' She kissed my cheeks, the waft of her rose perfume filling my nose and causing me to gag a little. 'Are you well?'

'Very. And yourself?'

'As well as one can be expected to be in the current climate.' She replied tightly, shooting a stern glance to the corner of the room where a man, whom I assume was Larsen himself, was talking to a group of men. 'Oil prices aren't what they once were.'

'I see. But I must say that I love your dress.' I said, skirting over the information Annette had just given me and saved it for later. The oil market in Norway wasn't very good at the moment - that would mean a lot of angry oil rig owners and a lot of desperate people.

'Aren't you sweet? This old thing? I've had it for years.' I highly doubted this as I knew that Annette prided herself on keeping up her appearance but didn't push it any further.

Annette might appear to be a blonde bimbo who didn't want anything other than her husband's money and the next good piece of gossip but I knew that deep down, she was a very kind and intelligent woman whose childhood hadn't been easy. And I wasn't going to judge her for that.

'I must ask you, Regan, whether you've heard any gossip surrounding the prince.' She smiled, taking my arm and leading me away from her group of friends and deeper into the crowd. 'I've heard he's very dashing.'

'He's a king now. His father - '

'Oh yes, silly me.' She stuttered, tucking a curl behind her ear with her gloved hand. 'I remember seeing it on the news, it was such a tragedy.'

'I can't really tell you that much.' I said, my eyes searching the crowd for any sign of Jared or Nim. They had to be here somewhere and I refused to go the whole evening without seeing them. 'I've not had any dealings with him myself.'

'Shame. I was hoping to get some inside gossip. Anyhow, what's the agenda tonight?'

'Same old, same old.' I said hastily, not letting the stifling heat of the room and her warmness completely fool me. My job was to translate for her and any one in her immediate circle, not to gossip to her about UN or SHIELD affairs.

'That wouldn't happen to be Captain Rogers would it?' She asked suddenly and I moved my eyes to where she was looking. Indeed it was, talking to a group of dark-suited men accompanied by Stark.

'Yes, it is. Have you spoken to him before?'

'No,' she sighed, sadly. 'But you know all about him don't you? Seeing as you now work at SHIELD?' Annette really didn't miss a beat, did she?

'I wouldn't quite say that.' I said slowly, watching Steve interact with the ministers. It seemed that his earlier insecurities had now faded away and he was now being his usual warm self.

'If I fainted this instant, I wonder how he'd react.' Annette murmured wistfully and I smiled, leaning closer so I could talk to her without being overheard.

'I'll do it for you and then if he doesn't catch me and give me CPR we can sue him for not being patriotic enough and survive off the money.'

'I like your thinking, Regan.' She said with a grin and I chuckled. Her smile suddenly faded and my eyes narrowed.

'What is it?'

'I'm afraid Arvid wants a dance.' She said, disdainfully, referring to her husband. 'At least I presume that's why he's waving at me like a frantic seal.'

'Have fun.' I called as I watched her disappear into the crowd into Arvid's loving arms. Well then. Now, to find T'Challa...

'Fancy a bite to eat, ma'am?' A familiar voice suddenly asked behind me and I whipped around to see Jared dressed in a waiter's uniform, his usually messy hair combed flat and his glasses sliding off the bridge of his nose.

'I'd love a canapé,' I teased, reaching out for what looked like a very tiny scone. Jared's dark brows furrowed and he moved the tray away from me.

'They're hors d'oeuvres, actually.' He said seriously and my expression became tense.

'Oh, I'm terribly sorry.' He broke into a smile again and I pushed his glasses back over his eyes. 'Do you have anything for me or is this just a social meeting?'

'And here I am thinking you just wanted to talk...' he murmured, reaching into his pocket with his free hand.

'Seeing as you've already got an ear-piece, I figured this would be useful.' I half expected a walkie-talkie or another form of communication but no, it was indeed another ear-piece. I glared at Jared as he quickly passed it to me and I fixed it in my other ear.

Now I was going to have to listen very carefully to what anyone was saying to me. Or just discard my SHIELD one.

'There are 6 agents in total, shadowing T'Challa.' Jared explained quietly so me as I reached for another hors d'oeuvres. 'And that's Nim included.'

'Where is Nim?' I asked. 'I haven't seen her.' Jared rolled his eyes.

'Translating for some Japanese asshole and his new wife. She keeps begging me to save her.' I seriously considered about making a joke about him begging for something else but decided against it. Jared would have taken it in his stride anyway, that's just who he was and he and Nim had been dating for long enough for him not to be too touchy about their sex lives coming up in conversation.

'Anyone punched you yet for interrupting a top secret conversation?' I pondered.

'Nah, I'm too handsome for that.'

'Which is why me and Nim are translating and you're stuck being a waiter.' Jared frowned and stepped back as though he was offended.

'If you're going to keep being mean to me then I will leave and take these babies with me.' He popped the last remaining hors d'oeuvre into his mouth and I rolled my eyes.

'Well I have actual work to be doing.' I said with a grin, leaving Jared with his empty tray and making my way over to where Stark and Steve were stood.

This wasn't anything to do with the fact that I wanted to talk to them and everything to do with that now, T'Challa was only a few feet away.

I could see Annette still dancing in the centre of the room, partaking in a rather stilted Portuguese shuffle step, so turned my attention towards Stark and Steve. Natasha was no where to be seen but I presumed that she was off networking with some foreign diplomats.

'How's it going?' I asked, eyeing up the glasses of champagne that a waiter was bringing around. No. I couldn't.

'I keep talking to people and I'm just spitting words out. I've no idea what I'm even saying.' He stuttered and I smiled, good-naturedly. 'At least the food's good. I've had about 6 of these canapé things.'

'They're hors d'oeuvres actually.' I said with a grin as Steve reached for another. 'You enjoying yourself at all?'

'Not really. Should I be?' He asked, throwing me a small smile.

'It might kick in soon.' I reassured him. 'Or maybe you're more suited to the superhero stuff.'

'Perhaps some dancing would help.' Stark said suddenly, leaving the group of people he'd been talking to and slinging his arm around Steve's shoulder.

'I'd volunteer but I really need to keep an eye on Annette.' I said jokingly, peering over their heads to see her laughing with her husband about something and as much as she complained about him, I knew they had a good relationship really.

'I saw her talking with T'Challa earlier.' Stark commented and I inwardly groaned.

'Yeah, I'm pretty sure she wants him to be her third husband.'

I let my eyes float around the ballroom, surveying all the various groups of people. Across the room deals were being made, marriage alliances confirmed and wars being postponed. Yet you'd never believe it if you were simply looking at the candle-lit room.

A flickering of movement caught my eye and I adjusted my vision. It was Jared, waving the empty hors d'oeuvres tray he'd been carrying. Next to him was Nim, dressed in a gorgeous red satin dress which perfectly complimented her dark eyes and hair.

But it wasn't her dress that caught my attention - it was the look that was on her face.

Panic. Sheer panic.

Why wasn't my ear-piece working? I tweaked it a bit with my finger, pushing it deeper into my ear and suddenly Jared was shouting down my eardrum.

'Rae? Rae? Can you hear me? Two of our agents have been found unconscious outside. Something's happening, you need to keep your eye on - '

Before he could finish his words, three shots rang out into the ballroom and everybody started screaming. I immediately covered my head, searching the upper levels of the ballroom for any sign of shooters. Everyone was shouting in panic and fear; Steve and Stark were no longer by my side.

I quickly checked with T'Challa - he was ducking behind a pillar, his security surrounding him.

'5TH FLOOR! I REPEAT, BACKUP NEEDED ON THE 5TH FLOOR!' I didn't know which agent needed my help or that was shouting but the only thing I knew was that I started running towards the staircase.

Everything was going to shit. The only thing I could hear was screaming - there was no trace of the orchestra anymore. I didn't know if anyone had been hurt but judging from the screaming, this was a probability.

Everything was going to shit and I was going to do something about it.

Screw protocol.

\- Ooooh! What did you think guys? What is going to happen next?


	39. Trettiåtte

I was running as fast as my heels would allow me, holding the hem of my skirt up around my thighs and grabbing my gun in the process.

It really was the first rule of espionage, wasn't it? To always have a gun on hand because you never knew what could happen. Take this, for example.

I heard another round of shots echoing around the ballroom and I skidded to a halt, pressing myself into the wall and trying to catch my breath and get my thoughts in order.

I needed to get to the 5th floor. And seeing as the building was so old, there were no elevators anywhere. I eyed the stairs as the room started screaming again and I prayed that no one had got hurt. Orders were being barked into both of my ears, from UN and SHIELD agents alike. This was ridiculous. I couldn't listen to both and still function properly.

I yanked out my SHIELD ear-piece and crushed it under my heel, just in case it really did contain a tracking device like I'd suspected - I didn't want to muck up any readings.

I felt a pang of guilt as I looked around for any sign of incoming danger. No one had followed me out of the ballroom - not yet anyway - so I figured I was safe for the moment.

I was officially a UN agent, after all. But that didn't help to dampen the guilt that was threatening to take over my brain.

I pushed off the wall and, grabbing at my skirts so that I wouldn't fall flat on my face, sprinted as fast as I could up the towering staircase. I couldn't stop now, not even for a moment. Agents needed my help and lives were at risk.

Just as I reached the top of the first floor, I caught a flicker of movement below me. Peering down the stairs, I saw a group of black-suited SHIELD agents running towards the foyer and then Steve following them. He halted for a split second, nodding his head as he listened to his instructions, before following me up the stairs.

Shit.

I took off even faster than before, heading for the second staircase, the lump rising in my throat. So now I was running towards some gunmen and running away from Captain America.

The world didn't make sense anymore. None of this made sense.

'Nim? You free?' I murmured, taking the corner sharply and weaving through a corridor of pillars towards the second staircase.

'On the first floor stairs now.' I almost sighed in relief.

'Get Rogers away from me while you're there.' I ordered, pumping my arms as I barrelled up the stairs. I had faith in my UN agents that we had this job handled. What I was worried about was how the other guests would react and if anyone needed medical attention.

'On it.' I needed to keep him out of my UN mission. I needed to keep them all out of my mission because I highly doubted they would be very happy that I'd kept them in the dark.

'Thanks, you're a star - '

Even if it had been a direct order.

Hell, even I wasn't happy about keeping them in the dark but it was much too late to be regretting past decisions now. Especially when there were gunmen to catch.

I was onto the 5th floor staircase when it hit me just how bad my stamina must have been before SHIELD. I was exhausted after running up four staircases now - what had it been like without any training.

I was also beginning to panic as to the location of the gunmen. I hadn't spotted anyone lurking on the first three floors, although there was 11 floors so that didn't mean much, and was worried that they might stand a chance of escaping.

I really hoped they were still in the building. The garden was a 9 acre plot. We would definitely need back-up for that.

'Is he still after me?' I instantly brought my guard up as I reached the fourth floor. This was where the gunmen had first been spotted. And I didn't need a super-soldier lurking around to distract me.

'I'm a bit busy at the moment - ' She shouted, her voice tense.

Oh. So now she was fighting Steve. Fun...

And where was Nat? The thought suddenly burst into my head as I slowly raised my gun in front of me, listening out for any sound of movement. I hadn't seen her for quite a while. Was she injured? Or was she on my tail?

I didn't know which one was worse at this point.

I rounded the corner to see two UN agents picking themselves up off the floor, one clutching his shoulder.

'Where did they go?' I shouted, keeping my eyes peeled for any oncoming attackers. Please don't tell me they'd jumped out a window or something...

'Back that way - ' Mitchell pointed down the corridor that I'd just run down, the one that led towards the stairs.

I'd just ran right past them.

Fuck. Stupid Regan...

'If you're injured, get out of here - ' I called over my shoulder as I found another burst of energy and started to retrace my steps. 'Or start evacuating civilians.'

Running in heels really was my favorite hobby. Straight after pulling my toe-nails off my feet.

'Nim?' I barked, sifting through the voices that were being shouted into my ear. From what I could hear, they had started the process of evacuating the guests and the cops had been called and the perimeter sealed.

At least we were getting somewhere. But the danger hadn't passed yet.

'He's just gone up the stairs.' She gasped and I instantly felt another pang of guilt. I shouldn't have dragged Nim into my messy UN/SHIELD problem. 'I think that was the first time he's ever punched a woman - '

'I'm sorry Nim - ' I cringed, pausing a moment to check the area. It probably was the first time he'd ever punched a woman. I'd have to ask him about it later.

That was, if I managed to get out of this building alive and on speaking terms with him.

'Don't worry about it. I just saw your pal Stark too.'

'Tell them to head for the 4th floor. I think the upper floors are clear.'

'On it - '

I was trying to make sense of the of the scrabble of voices that were being shouted in my ear as kept moving over the floor as quickly as I could, my gun out in front of me. I heard the words 'wounded' and 'diplomats' and 'services alerted'.

So T'Challa hadn't been hit. But at least two other people had been wounded severely enough to need an ambulance. The attacker or most likely attackers had managed to get something out of tonight, even if it was only causing mass panic.

When I found out who Ross's informant was they were going to have a lot to answer to. This shithole of a gala was their fault.

Something dashed past me and I surged forwards, catching sight of the back of an agent that I couldn't identify. He wasn't a guest. He wasn't security.

I immediately started sprinting after him, all thought to the identity of the attacker flying from my mind.

I cursed the building for being so big as I raced across the floor, not letting myself stop for breath. I wanted to try and save my bullets as much as I could, seeing as I didn't have any backups and my clutch had been lost somewhere on the ballroom floor when I'd ran to the two agents aid.

And it wasn't like I could keep any spares on me, either. I didn't have a lot of hiding space considering I was only 5 foot 2.

I caught word that three mercenaries had been caught attempting to flee the building as I threw myself around the corner as the agent hurried down the stairs. They didn't have any identifiable affiliates but had been arrested by the police.

So that was three down. But how many were there?

'I'm on the tail of another now.' I said, as I kept my eyes pinned on the agent. I couldn't have got a clear shot even if I wanted to - he kept darting between pillars and disappearing behind corners. 'Anyone around the 3rd floor?'

This guy wasn't a novice. He was trained.

'I'm on my way - ' Jared replied, his voice forcing me to keep going. If I kept pushing him in this direction, then Jared could surprise him in the other.

At least, that was the idea I was working with at the moment.

I lost count of how many doors and rooms I ran past as I kept going. If Steve wasn't proud of my stamina at the end of this, then I was going to want to know why.

That is, if I didn't ram straight into him and get a barrage of awkward questions.

'Cap's coming on the stairs, Rae - '

Oh great. That was just what I needed as I was about to collapse from tiredness and lack of oxygen.

'Can't you knock him out or something?' I gained some extra speed as I flew down a straight corridor, trying to pick up any features on the agent that would help us to identify him. He was dressed all in black and wearing thick gloves.

'It's knock him out or help you - '

'JUST KICK HIM THEN!' I shouted exasperatedly as the agent suddenly turned around and started firing at me. I ducked behind a wall just in time, watching him disappear around a corner.

I couldn't let him get away.

I clicked the safety off my gun and quickly followed him.

He was still moving towards the stairs. As long as he kept going that way then there was a chance Jared or Steve would be able to apprehend him.

'I don't want to be arrested for assaulting an OAP.'

'That's not funny.'

'Yes it is.'

'He's armed and dangerous so be careful - ' I called, brushing past Jared's joke. Even in intense situations like this, he was still a barrel of laughter and joviality.

The agent darted out in front of me and I quickly aimed at his shoulder, shooting him twice in his arm. He let out a muffled groan and his pace instantly slowed as he reached the top of the stairs and Jared toppled him to the floor, clamping a pair of handcuffs on him.

'Get gone - ' He said to me, gesturing to the second flight of stairs on this floor that led downwards. I was confused for a minute before I saw Steve coming up the stairs and instantly starting running.

'Regan? Regan, is that you?'

Shit. Shit.

Why couldn't Steve just piss off? Just his once? Pretty please?

'Nim? Nim? You alright?' My breath was coming in harsh pants now, seeing as I'd been running for about 15 solid minutes without pausing.

'First floor. Some help would be nice - '

'On my way,'

My mission wasn't only now to get to Nim and help her but to also avoid Steve at all costs. I did not want to currently explain my situation to him, not when I was near to passing out.

I got to the second floor to see Nim frantically fighting off two agents while her 'backup' were currently lying on the floor and groaning.

I quickly aimed around Nim's form and shot both the agents non-fatally and hurried over to the fallen agents.

'Fractured a rib, I think - ' Nim said, her breathing laboured as she pushed some hair from her face. 'And this wasn't what I meant when I said more exciting - '

'I got that.' I replied, leaning against the wall and taking in a few deep gulps of air.

'You alright?' Nim asked worriedly, her almond eyes narrowing and I nodded.

'So long as none of my SHIELD buddies catch me, I'm peachy - '

'Then you might want to get moving.' Nim murmured, pushing me behind a wall as Steve emerged from the stairs.

For fuck's sake.

Really Stevie?

I took off running again, just as I heard Steve ponder that Nim wasn't actually a waitress which I assumed had been her cover-story.

I needed to get back to the main foyer or even the ballroom if security would let me back in there. That way, I hopefully be able to blag that I had nothing to do with any of this and definitely hadn't taken down a handful of mercenaries and Steve had simply been seeing shadows.

Because he was so obsessed with me that he was seeing images of me wherever he went.

Or, back up plan, I could just faint on the spot and say I got kicked in the head.

I reached the foyer of the ballroom which was eerily silent and clear from security. Outside the windows I could see the blaring flashing of police lights.

Where the hell was everyone?

I peered down the corridors leading away from the ballroom. All were deserted. All were silent.

Something wasn't right.

I suddenly heard footsteps. Thundering footsteps. I turned to see Natasha and Stark both running at full speed towards me, intense looks on their faces.

And I knew that this was nothing to do with the gunmen who had attacked the building.

Fuck.

But before I could make my escape, I spotted a figure running behind them, his gun aimed at Stark's back. Before my feet could move from my spot I had my gun out and I was aiming at him.

I saw Stark duck, a confused look on his face, just as I hit the attacker.

My blood froze. He thought I'd been aiming at him. They thought I was the enemy.

They were now after me.

Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck.....

Steve was coming from above and Stark and Natasha were coming from below.

I needed a plan and stat.

So I ran. My legs groaned and my lungs were burning.

'Everything alright Rae? We've got that jerk and - '

'Any help right now would be fantastic - ' I half-shouted, taking the stairs two at a time. I'd wasted precious time running to the staircase that I prayed Steve wouldn't be coming down but I knew my only other option would have been to leave the ballroom and try and loose them in the city of Prague.

And I hadn't been in Austria for a very long time and my Austrian was very shaky.

'Why? What's happening?' Jared asked as I pushed past a group of security guards that were loitering at the top of the stairs.

What the hell was I doing? I couldn't outrun them forever and by now they definitely thought that I was up to something. I just needed to face them and explain myself - that yes, I had kept potentially life-changing information from them but it had been an direct order. They'd understand that, right?

Although the face Stark had been sporting hadn't looked very understanding.

'The short of it is I'm fucked.' I said bluntly, pausing for breath behind a pillar because I really was going to faint in a minute.

'Where are you?' Nim answered and I almost cried at the sound of her voice. I needed to calm down. My adrenaline was spiking through the roof and I was behaving like a crazy person.

'2nd floor.'

'I'm on my way.'

'There's no point, Nim. They saw me. And Stark thinks I was trying to blow his head off when I was actually shooting a guy behind him.'

'Then just tell him that.' I peered out from behind the pillar, screwing my toes up inside my shoes. The heels might be beautiful but after all the running I'd been doing they were beginning to hurt like hell.

'I've already lied to them enough. They're going to kill me - '

'It was a direct order, Rae. What did they expect you to do?' Jared butted in. 'Just stay put, I'm on my way - '

'So what, they can kill you too?' The floor was silent. I was straining my ears to hear any thud of footsteps or the murmur of voices and the fact that there were none just put me on edge even more.

'They won't kill me, I'm far too charming and handsome for that.'

'Have you met Tony Stark? He's like you x1000.' I said sarcastically, stepping out from my hiding place.

There was no sign of them. Maybe they weren't coming after me?

'But he's actually not that bad.' I amended, leaning my head back against the wall and sighing.

'What's this? Regan Hamilton likes an arrogant, douche-face?' Jared joked and I rolled my eyes.

'Yes, he can be annoying. But he's a genius who does have a conscience and you can tell he cares about what he's doing.' I explained. Stark had grown on me over the last few weeks that I'd known him and my opinion had changed immensely.

My opinion had changed on all of them, really. Now I knew the humans that hid behind the masks and the skin tight costumes and I knew that they were all kind and incredibly brave people.

And maybe the reason I just hadn't got on with Tony in the first place had been because he reminded me of myself? He -

Suddenly, an ear-splitting scream echoed from down the corridor and I jumped into action. My gun was in front of me before I could blink, even though I was on my last three bullets.

I edged down the corridor, slowly and quietly, checking every door-frame and corridor that I passed.

'You two still coming? I need some back up.'

'On it - ' Nim replied as I froze at the sound of voices. Or rather, moans of pain. And I knew that voice.

Tony.

I slid along the wall, my fingers clenched around my gun. As I neared the end of the wall, I could see Tony lying sprawled on the floor attempting to fight off two attackers. Next to him, Natasha was fighting off another man who was armed with a gun and Steve was fighting one who was wielding a double ended knife.

So we definitely hadn't gotten them all, had we?

'I need back up on the 2nd floor this instant, I repeat back up on the 2nd floor. There are 4 more mercenaries, all of whom are armed and extremely well trained.' I murmured as silently as I could, trying to work out a plan of attack.

I only had 3 bullets. That wasn't enough for all of them. But, if I'd learned anything over the past few weeks, I knew that Natasha had things handled.

I burst out from my hiding place, quickly shooting the first agent who was looming over Tony in the shoulder and kicking him to the floor.

The second agent then lunged for me and shot him in the thigh, using his moment of hesitation to sweep his legs out from underneath him and pin my gun at his face.

'Back-up? Anyone? Pretty please?'

'10 seconds Rae, I promise.' Nim shouted back as my eyes drifted over to where Steve and Natasha were fighting off the other two agents.

But it was clear that the other two agents had the slight upper hand, given that they were armed and Natasha and Steve were not.

'I've one more bullet - '

'Leave it, Hamilton.' Natasha spat back, elbowing the agent in the head and sending him staggering to the floor.

That word was like a bullet to my chest. Gone was the friendly Rae or even Regan. I was now Hamilton.

I'd ruined everything.

'What - ' Natasha spun out of nowhere, kicking my feet out from under me and sending a jolt of pain through me. I bashed my head against the marble floor, my arm giving little cushioning against the impact.

My vision was foggy and every time I tried to push myself to my knees, a sharp pain shot through my skull. I could hear murmurs above me but I couldn't make out the speakers or the words.

I was done.

The exhaustion and tiredness coupled my sudden lack of adrenaline and the pain whirling around my skull was too much for me to handle.

The last thing I saw was Nim and Jared running down the corridor, their eyes wide.

\- Dun dun dunnnn! What's going to happen to Regan now?


	40. Kanakolukūmāiwa

My head was throbbing, not unlike the pain I'd felt when I woke up after being tossed down the stairs like a pancake. But this time, I was surrounded by a roaring, deafening noise that made me want to slip into sleep all over again.

It took me a second to figure out where I was, using the sounds and smells around me as well as what I could remember in my hazed memory - all without opening my eyes.

This was another tactic taught to me by the UN - the second you regained consciousness, you put yourself at a disadvantage to feel and to suffer. So it had been drilled into me to work out my location without the use of my sight. An after a moment of listening to the whirring and the slight murmur of voices and my patchwork of memories, I realised I was back on the plane to be shipped back to SHIELD like an unexpected package.

I was lying down, the floor cold and unwelcoming beneath my bare arms. My hands were, surprisingly, lying flat at my sides but my feet hadn't been so lucky; after a moment of wriggling them slightly I discovered they were locked in cuffs.

They were really pissed at me, weren't they?

I shifted my arms slightly and my hand bumped into something smooth and silky. My clutch bag. So they'd been kind enough to retrieve my clutch for me but clamped my feet in cuffs?

I kept my eyes shut and tried to formulate a plan in my mind and remember what had happened in my last few moments of consciousness. At first I thought I'd been injected with some kind of poison because my legs felt like they were detached from my body and my head kept tingling.

But no. There was no poison, I'd simply been knocked out by Natasha. And my shaky legs was because I'd spent the entirety of the evening running around in a pair of sky-high heels.

This was basically the amalgamation of everything that I hadn't wanted to happen - I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up on SHIELD's watch list as everyone probably thought I was some kind of double-crossing spy who wanted them all dead which couldn't have been further from the truth.

I tried to think like Trish, who always had an optimistic outlook to every situation. At least the mercenaries had been apprehended and no one had died.

I mean...I didn't think anyone had died.

And Trish! Oh shit. I'd told her I'd call her to let her know what was happening. But instead I was being held for treason and would probably spend the rest of my life in a high security prison.

No. I was over-reacting, as per usual. That wouldn't happen. I forced myself to concentrate on my surroundings to keep my mind from focusing on my impending doom.

The plane was deathly silent, apart from the incessant whirring of the engines. For once, I couldn't even hear Tony's voice. This didn't fill me with confidence, either.

I'd really fucked up, hadn't I?  
***  
At some point I must have dozed off - either because of the thudding pain in my head or because I really was more tired than I realized - as when I regained consciousness again, the plane was jittering to a halt.

We had landed. Time to face my death sentence.

'How are we going to get her off?' I didn't know the agent who was talking but the sentiment was clear in her voice - she hated me.

I wasn't even Hamilton anymore. I was just she.

Well I was going to show them that I wasn't a spy and that I was on their side and that I was worth more than simply being addressed as 'she'.

Even if it killed me. Which, if I was being wholly honest, it actually could.

'I'll carry her - ' Steve murmured, his voice low. I couldn't tell from his voice how he really felt. And it was Steve's opinion, for some reason, that I wanted to know the most.

Here went nothing.

'I'm perfectly capable of walking if you take this ridiculous contraption off my feet.' I said strongly, blinking my eyes open against the pale rays of sun and ignoring the looks of passing agents as the disembarked. 'I don't know where you expected me to go at 100 feet in the air.'

'You're full of surprises so we'd hate to presume.' Tony said sarcastically, his lip curled in an expression of slightly disgust. He didn't say anything further, simply turned on his heel and stalked away from the plane.

That was worse than any screaming rant or enraged fit that he could have thrown.

Steve silently approached me and after, taking the key from his pocket, removed the cuffs from my ankles. The mechanism looked surprisingly unsecure and if I'd been given enough time, I knew I could have freed myself.

But I doubted that would have given off the best impression, given what they already thought of me.

Steve didn't meet my eyes or say a single word and his hands were almost harsh as he removed the loops of metal from around my ankles. In all the time I'd known him, he'd been professional and encouraging but never harsh.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I unsteadily got to my feet, my toes crying in protest as I left the plane. Natasha was glaring at me with her arms crossed in front of her. Was this what a rabbit felt like before it was slaughtered?

'Don't even think about running anywhere.' she spat, grabbing my elbow and dragging me across the loading bay. Steve marched behind me, his eyes fixed forwards.

Natasha's nails were beginning to prick against my flesh.

Mercifully the loading bay was almost deserted given the late (or early, it depended how you viewed it) hour that were around. I had no idea of the time other than that I knew it was dark outside.

But I knew we were going to be facing some agents soon. And if they hadn't been informed of my actions, they soon would be.

I felt like I was performing the walk of shame for saving lives.

That wasn't the point though, was it? The point was that I had gone behind their backs and had tried to play both sides. And I couldn't do that.

Not that it should matter, though. There shouldn't even be sides. The UN and SHIELD should be on the same side with the same priorities and missions and that was what I was supposed to be doing as part of my job.

So not only had I failed on a personal level, I'd failed professionally.

I was going to having serious words with Ross when I spoke to him next.

The silence between us was beginning to kill me.

I was expecting to be taken to one of the offices immediately and to await my imminent demise there. That's why I was surprised when Natasha dragged me away from the main corridor that would lead upwards to the offices and instead took a sharp left.

I'd had no reason to explore this section of the SHIELD compound yet, thankfully, but I'd seen it labelled on every single map I'd seen.

The cells.

Like I was some kind of criminal.

Think like Trish. Think like Trish. At least I wouldn't have to face any agents?

'If you just listened to me for one minute - ' I started, wrenching around to face Natasha.

'I'm sick of listening to anything you say.' She snapped, her sharp nails digging into my arm as she surged forwards into a dark, shady corridor.

My arm was stinging and I bit my lip to keep my protests to myself. The corridor was lined on both sides with small sections, three walls made of concrete and the wall facing out barred with steel poles.

I wasn't a criminal. Then why did I feel like one.

'Fury will deal with you later.' Natasha said, pressing her thumb against the scanner next to an empty cell located at the end of the corridor. 'He's too busy sorting out the shit show that was the gala to deal with you at the minute.'

I'd never seen Natasha so angry. She was fizzing with rage. Even in our interrogation her anger had been carefully constructed and controlled; now it was raw and aching to be released.

Now I knew why people were so terrified of her.

Natasha pushed me inside and I staggered a little on my feet, the toil my shoes were having on my feet evident. She reached for my clutch but I quickly retracted my arm, hiding it behind my back.

No. I had to put my foot down at some point.

'You can't do that. I need my phone and I don't have any master assassins on speed dial like you seem to assume I do - '

'Who are you expecting a call from?' Steve said suddenly, breaking the silence that he'd been so solemnly keeping. I shifted my gaze from Natasha's ravenous eyes to his. They were narrow and cold.

'Trish.' I murmured. 'To tell her that I won't be home until later.'

'New girlfriend? You move on quickly - ' Natasha murmured and I felt a flash of rage. Why was she being so petty? Had I personally offended her or something?

'No, she's not my new girlfriend but she is my best friend and she's dog sitting for me and - ' I suddenly trailed off as my clutch started vibrating. I quickly opened it and grabbed my phone, ignoring the looks from Natasha and Steve, to see that it was Trish.

'Rae I've been trying to call you - '

'I know, I'm really sorry. It's been hectic and - '

'It's Stella.' My words died in my throat. What? What had happened? Was she okay? 'I'm at the vets with her.'

'Is she okay? What's wrong? What - ' I now didn't give a shit about Natasha and Steve and couldn't care less about my current position. One of my babies wasn't well and I was beginning to panic.

'She started vomiting right after you left and wouldn't stop all night. She was chucking up blood as well and her gums went this weird yellow colour.' This wasn't happening. This wasn't my Stella, who'd been part of my family for the longest. It wasn't.

Nothing else mattered now. I didn't care that Natasha was securing the bars across the front of my cell and Steve was glaring at me as though I was the human personification of evil.

I didn't care what they thought about me. I just needed Stella to be okay.

'Has she seen the vet yet? What did they say?' I asked hastily, turning away from Steve and Natasha. I didn't want them to see the panic and anxiety that was filling my eyes.

'They're really busy so they've not been able to give her a full consultation yet. But one of the vets was worried it could be a tumor and she might need surgery - '

I couldn't comprehend Trish's words. They weren't registering in my head. This wasn't real. It was some kind of -

'I've got to go, they're calling us in. I'll call you back when I know some more.' I noticed the tiredness behind Trish's voice and my heart started to ache. Trish shouldn't have to deal with this.

'Okay. Sure. Just...look after her...' I said feebly, as though Trish would do anything else.

'You know I will.'

Trish hung up and I replaced my phone in my clutch.  I slid down the wall until I was sat slumped on the floor, my head lolling back against the cold surface. I kicked off my heels, my toes crying out in relief. My stomach was gnawing with hunger. My throat was dry. I felt ready to burst into tears.

My baby needed me and instead I was locked up inside a cell for trying to do the right thing.

I squeezed my eyes shut. just wanted to sleep. Sleep for a hundred years and hope that the problems would magically disappear in a puff of glittery smoke.

But that wasn't going to happen.

I stretched my arm out through the bars and pressed my thumb to the scanner. After a moment, the light flashed green and the bars rolled back slightly.

I could leave right now and go to the vets and see Stella. I didn't move.

Because that wouldn't help her. That wouldn't help the vets to find out what the problem was. Nor would it help me.

I hated people feeling disappointed in me. That was one of the reasons I was so ambitious. People not trusting me I could cope with. But disappointment was something else.

I'd fucked up.

And that was what you got for trying to play both sides.

\- Is there any hope for poor Rae? What d'you think is going to happen next?


	41. Forty

I didn't know how long I sat slumped on the floor, the heady silence digging its way into my bones. My hair pins were sat in a pile on the floor, my hair tangling around my shoulders. I fiddled with my earrings, running my hands across the stones, purely for something to do.

The pins had been beginning to squeeze my skull. My toes were red and partially blistered.

I'd attempted to get some sleep, lying down on the metal 'bed' that had been provided in my cell. But it hadn't just been the uncomfortable mattress preventing me from sleep.

I couldn't switch off my brain. I couldn't switch off the cyclone of thoughts that were whizzing round inside my head. 

My phone had died a while ago, Trish's incessant calls draining the battery.

At some point I'd started crying and hadn't stopped. Fat, silent tears rolling down my cheeks and melding with the sweat on my skin.

I felt awful. Awful for not just going with my gut and telling SHIELD about the threat against T'Challa. Maybe if I had, those diplomats might not have been injured. I knew that they were now recovering in hospital but that was the point.

I needed to stop caring what Ross thought of me. I needed to stop caring about what everybody thought of me. That's what got me into this mess in the first place - wanting people to like and trust me and to work on every side of the equation.

And I'd sacrificed who I was in the process.

But I couldn't work on every side. It was only a matter of time before something had to give and loyalties became crossed and blurred. And even though I knew I was on the side of what was best for everybody, that answer wasn't good enough for some people.

Just before my phone died, I'd received a text from Trish. The vets had ruled out a tumor but were still unsure has to what was making Stella sick.

The uncertainty and powerlessness that I felt was suffocating me.

When I heard the soft pattering of footsteps echoing down the corridor, I still didn't react. Natasha loomed over me, her face passive. She unlocked the door with her print and then waited for me to move. She didn't speak to me.

She couldn't speak to me.

Grudgingly, I slowly pushed myself to my feet. I grabbed my clutch and my cluster of hair pins and followed Natasha back down the corridor. As we reached the door leading out to the main compound, she grabbed my elbow again in her cast-iron grip.

In all the confusion, I'd almost forgotten that I would have to face Fury at some point and explain to him what the hell had happened.

But I didn't care what they thought of me now. I was going to fully explain what really happened, keep my job and carry on doing my job and not give a shit about what people thought of me.

I'd wasted enough time by thinking about others perceptions of me and it ended now.

The only person whose opinions I cared about were my own.

Walking through the corridors of SHIELD, I definitely felt as though I was performing the walk of shame now. There were four times the amount of agents milling around and every one pinned their eyes to me as I passed.

Anxiety bubbled in my stomach but I swallowed it down, holding my head up high and staring any agent back in the face who made direct eye contact with me.

All too quickly I was stood outside Fury's office for the third time in my short residence at SHIELD. Inside, I could see Tony and Steve were already talking to Fury and were still dressed in their gala suits.

Natasha pushed open the door, yanking me inside, and their conversation promptly ended. Neither Tony or Steve made direct eye contact with me as Natasha shut the door behind her.

I concentrated my attention on Fury, determined not to dwell in the smothering emotions that welled up inside of me. But then, Fury didn't look any happier than Tony and Steve did.

'You've got 30 seconds to explain what the fuck you were doing.' Fury said sharply and I did.

I rambled through how my objectives had been to translate for Annette Larsen and to help neutralize the threat on T'Challa's life. I ignored their expressions as I explained how Ross had been given a tip-off and how I'd received a direct order not to tell anyone. I finished by saying how I'd been successful in my mission with the help of my fellow UN agents to bring the mercenaries into custody.

No one spoke for a moment, slowly digesting my words. Tony spoke first and I noticed that his face was littered with bruises and he was holding his right arm more gingerly than normal.

'And why did you shoot at me and Romanoff?'

'I wasn't shooting at you, I promise. I was shooting at the two attackers behind you who were aiming their guns at you.' I replied swiftly.

'And why the hell did you not think this information should be shared among SHIELD?' Fury asked his voice flat and his eyes cold.

'Ross gave a direct order to keep it a secret.'

'Well, it's about time you thought for yourself and moved out from under Ross's thumb.' Fury said sternly, sounding exasperated and I bit my lip to stop myself from replying. 'Because you were reckless and incompetent.'

'3 people died because of your actions.' Tony started but I cut him off. They were not going to try and make me feel guiltier about my actions.

'No, they didn't.' I interrupted bluntly. 'No one died. Those 3 diplomats were shot and quickly transferred to the nearest hospital where they received treatment. I helped to minimize that number.'

'And that number could have very easily been maximized because no one knew where the hell you were! Did it not occur to you Agent Hamilton that your other SHIELD agents might look for you? You were unresponsive - '

'My communicator broke - ' I quickly added, lying through the skin of my teeth.

'Captain Rogers put his back out searching for you, worried that you'd been captured or was lying somewhere with a bullet through your brain.'

'At least you can be sure of Captain Roger's loyalty.' I said after a moment, my sarcasm covering my worries. Fury looked ready to shoot me on the spot and I was slightly anxious at the way Steve, Natasha and Tony weren't saying anything.

Fury wouldn't sack me, would he? He couldn't do that. I'd done nothing wrong - I'd been following a direct order...

Then why did I feel so awful?

'You cannot play both sides, Agent Hamilton, and you're mistaken if you think you can carry on playing both sides. You need to make a choice about where your loyalties lie.'

'With all due respect, Director, I had a direct order.' I said firmly and Fury's eyes narrowed.

'I don't care about your direct order, Hamilton, you should have come directly to me or another leading agent such as one of the three other people in this room.'

'Director Ross said that - '

'This organization runs of trust, Agent Hamilton.' Fury abruptly cut me off. I didn't like where this was going. 'And thanks to your actions the only person in this entire organization who trusts you is a trainee recruit whose only stable job in the last 3 years has been dog walking. What does that say about you?'

'Don't talk about Trish like that.' I said, my voice low. I didn't care that no one trusted me. I wasn't going to let him talk about Trish in that condescending way. Trish had had a lot of problems over the last 3 years and I wasn't going to let anyone give her crap for that.

'It's hardly your place to say, Agent Hamilton - '

'I don't care. I'd rather you didn't refer to Agent Manning in such a manner, sir.' I said, turning on my diplomatic mode and could swear I saw a flicker of a smile on Natasha's face.

'Well, I don't care how many languages you can speak or how many backflips you can do, Agent Hamilton. You have violated this organization's trust and it's resources and you're not going to get away with that. From now on - '

My heart was in my mouth. A fist knocked on the glass door and someone opened it, sending Fury's eyes whipping away from me. His eyes furrowed and he shook his head.

'I'm busy Phil - ' I let out a gasp and spun around, a smile grazing my face. Stood in the doorway, his shirt rumbled and his eyes creased with tiredness, was Phil Coulson - a man that I was more than acquainted with given how many times we'd met at various functions and conferences over the years.

'Actually, it was Agent Hamilton that I wanted to talk to you about, sir - ' Phil said, shooting me a wink.

That's where Fury was wrong. I had more than just Trish on my side.

\- Phil's here to save the day! What did you guys think?


	42. Quarante Et Un

I was clenching my fists to tightly I was pretty sure my knuckles were going to burst out of my skin. My head couldn't keep up with what was happening. One minute my head had been on the chopping block and now Phil Coulson had come to save me.

I noticed that Fury kept shooting rather sharp glares in my direction whereas Phil was all smiles. How he'd gotten word of what had happened was beyond me, but I was just glad that he had.

I'd known Phil Coulson for several years now as we met at several UN meetings and conferences and he'd become a familiar face that I knew I could trust.

As I waited outside of Fury's office watching Phil and Fury undoubtedly discuss what to do with me, Steve, Tony and Natasha were talking in hushed voices to my right. I tried not to listen in to their conversation but I couldn't help it.

I could feel their eyes on me as I straightened my back and kept my head up.

'So now we know how you got the job - ' Tony said. 'Phil obviously put in a good word for you.'

'My position at SHIELD has nothing to do with my relationship with Agent Coulson or any other member of SHIELD.' I responded sharply. I couldn't really blame them, though. I'd probably be having the same thoughts if I was in their situation.'

'Really - ' Tony muttered under his breath, whispering something to Natasha and I furrowed my brows.

'Really. I got my position at SHIELD because I am good at my job - '

'That's debatable...'

'To you, maybe. But I know my worth, Mr. Stark, and I know that I am good at what I do.' I looked away from him, reaching into my clutch to see if my phone battery had magically recharged in the last half hour.

Unsurprisingly, it hadn't.

The second I was able, I was going to head over to my office and call Trish. I needed to go and see her and Stella and get a grip on the whole situation. The lack of information that I had was beginning to mess with my mind.

'Who you expecting a message from?' Tony asked as I dropped my phone back into my clutch.

'I don't have to tell you.' I said, biting my lip. Fury and Phil were still talking. I didn't know whether that was a good sign. 'Stella's sick...' I murmured after a moment and no one responded.

Just saying the words made me panic. She'd never been seriously ill before and she was healthy as far as I knew. Was there something that I'd missed? Was the whole thing my fault?

'How sick?' Steve asked slowly and I shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

'I don't know. My phone's dead.'

Suddenly, the door flew open and I looked up to meet Phil's eyes.

'You can all go in,' he said softly, patting me reassuringly on the shoulder and stepping aside to let us enter. I felt like I was going to be sick.

Fury was stood in front of his desk, his arms folded. He gave Phil a knowing look before turning back to me.

'Agent Hamilton, you will not be going on any missions that require you to leave this compound and certainly not out of the state for a very long time.' Fury said slowly, giving me a sharp look.

I held in a breath. Wait...Where was he going with this?

'And you'll be taking the night shift for the foreseeable future - '

'Doing what?' I hastily interrupted, my mind running away from me. Phil had saved me. He'd actually saved me -

'Monitoring surveillance.' I could wave goodbye to a good night's sleep then and surveillance was hardly the most entertaining thing in the world.

But I didn't care. The euphoria was taking over my brain as I forced my smile away and kept my face neutral.

'And if you have any problems with that, Agent Hamilton, then you can hand in your gun and badge and leave right now.'

'I have no problems with that, sir - ' I said with a nod, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Phil was smiling. I cracked into a smile and bit my lip to stop myself from smiling.

'Good. Because if you pull anything like this again, you will be out the door in an instant and no one will be putting in a good word for you. Is that clear?' I nodded my head so vigorously I was sure it was going to fall off.

'Yes sir.'

I was going to show them all just what I was doing here. And that it would take more than some mercenaries to take me down.

'Regan?' I looked over at Phil as he gestured for me to come over. My brows furrowed as I anxiously walked over to him. What did he want? 'My team are spending some time here on base before we head out again and - '

'Jemma?' I breathed, my eyes going wide and he nodded, a smile creeping onto his face.

'Jemma. They're in the loading bay.'

It had been almost a year since I'd seen Jemma and I couldn't wait to catch up with her, seeing as we both now worked for SHIELD. Jemma was my second cousin on my dad's side but my tended to simplify things by just going by cousin.

'You're all dismissed. Steve, I want a word with you - ' Fury said, Natasha and Tony quickly leaving the room. I brushed this off. They probably had lots of things to do; nothing to do with the fact that they now hated me.

But I didn't care what they thought about me. I still had my job. I might have lost everything else that I'd built up in the few weeks that I'd been at SHIELD for trying to be on everybody's side but I still had a job.

I needed to pick one side. SHIELD or the UN. And I needed to pick pretty quickly. And then tell the losing organization to fuck off.

Was SHIELD what I really wanted?

I was drawn back to reality hearing the words 'Hamilton' and 'Prague' come from Fury's mouth as he muttered something to Steve. He was probably listing all of my negative qualities.

But I didn't care. Or, at least, I was trying not to.

'Phil? I need you a minute - ' Fury called as I heaved open the door.

'And Regan? I've - I've something else to tell you.' Phil said, his voice suddenly growing quieter and more serious as the smile left his face. 'Can you wait a minute?'

My eyes shot between Phil and Fury, who was in the middle of talking to Steve. I suddenly felt nervous, the happiness of seeing Jemma being replaced with fear and anxiety.

I nodded, not sure I really wanted to know. But I did. I stepped out of the room, letting the door close behind me and watching Phil speak a few words to Steve.

I knew that Phil was one of the most trusted agents in SHIELD and that Steve was particularly close to him. Did that mean he would trust me a little more? Because he trusted Phil so much?

I didn't know. I just wanted to hear whatever Phil had to tell me, go home and then go and see Stella.

Steve suddenly stepped out of the room, running a hand through his hair. 'You can go in in a minute.' He said flatly, not meeting my eyes.

'Thanks.' I murmured, letting out a deep breath and I saw Steve's eyes narrow.

'I don't know what you thought you were trying to achieve but it obviously didn't work.' Steve said harshly, folding his arms across his chest. I raised my eyebrows. Captain America could still be a prick, could he?

'Well I - '

'I don't care - ' Steve said sharply, cutting me off, I shut my mouth, slightly dumb-founded.

'I'm sorry but that's not polite.' I replied with a smirk. If he was going to be a snarky dumb-ass, then I was too. 'At least I'm being civil whereas you - '

'I don't care.' He repeated, more forcefully this time. 'You knowingly and willingly endangered the life of everybody in that building. So I'm sorry if I'm not okay with that.'

'You don't know the half of it.'

'See you in training later - ' Steve said, turning on his heel and marching down the corridor.

'Don't I get to go home?' I called after him as I saw Phil approaching the door. They had to let me go home, didn't they? Surely I could sue them for that.

'There's no rest for the wicked!' Steve called back, sweeping his suit jacket over his shoulder in the arrogant fashion that I hated.

I rolled my eyes and bit down on my lip to stop myself from shouting back anything offensive. He was simply being defensive - I couldn't exactly blame him because I knew that I would be acting the same way.

But still. That didn't mean it didn't hurt.

'Regan? Can I have a word?' Phil popped his head around the door and I nodded. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go home.  
***  
I threw open the door and ran out into the corridor, taking a sharp turn to my right and heading towards the med-bay. Phil's words were still spinning around in my head and my hands were shaking uncontrollably.

This wasn't happening. Phil and his team hadn't found the half-dead body of Lieutenant John Brownlee in the desert and brought him back to the base.

They hadn't. Because Lieutenant John Brownlee had been in my dad's special ops unit. And if they'd found him...

I saw the figure of Steve up-ahead and watched him turn as I approached, weaving my way through groups of incoming agents. I didn't falter for a moment to even try and explain the situation as to why I was running through the corridors like a mad-woman.

I heard him shout something but it didn't register in my head. I didn't care about what he said to me anymore. I didn't even care that I'd be sleeping in my office again.

John was in a critical condition. He could die at any moment.

And I had some questions for him.

\- Any idea what is going to happen next? What d'you think so far?


	43. Cuarenta Y Dos

My adrenaline was beginning to overpower my senses - I knew that my legs were exhausted and I really should be having a sleep but endorphins were flooding my system.

I couldn't believe he was actually here. Here, on this SHIELD base. Here, after 3 years of nothing but radio silence.

I could remember the exact day and minute that we had lost contact with them - June 5th 2014 at 11:04am. One moment they'd been slap bang in the middle of Syria and the next they'd disappeared off the face of the earth.

Never to be seen again. At least, that was what people had told me when 3 years later I was still gripped on the hope that they could walk through the door at any moment. I couldn't just give up all hope.

Not when my father had been Lieutenant Commander on the team, one below John in rank.

Because a group of 12 people couldn't just disappear in the middle of a special-ops mission without a trace and without anyone seeing anything. Someone out there knew something about what happened.

And the day I gave up was the day I saw my dad's body in a coffin.

John had been his best friend since middle school and a regular friend of the family - he'd always come round for barbecues in the summer and me and my siblings all called him Uncle John.

And now he was here. And if Uncle John was, there was every chance that my dad wasn't far behind.

I willed my legs to slow down a little as I reached the entrance to the med-bay, before they gave out completely and I collapsed in a heap on the floor.

I wasn't even thinking about the agents that I'd pushed past, the hours that I'd gone without sleep. The only thing I could focus on was searching for his face in every bed that I passed, my breathing rapid.

How would he look? Would I even be able to recognize him? It had been 3 years after all and no one knew what they'd endured in that time.

But it wasn't just what he'd look like that was terrifying me. It was what he'd have to say. What he'd endured and how he'd fought and how he'd seen all his other comrades die around him.

If he said that, I didn't know how I'd cope.

I skittered to a stop, reaching the last of the rooms of this side of the corridor. I was panting for breath and misting up the window in front of me. But it was him. Undeniably him.

Even the sand and the blood and the fatigue couldn't disguise him. It was Uncle John.

He'd lost a lot of weight since I'd last seen him; he was barely a skeleton under the blankets that were tucked around him. He'd lost almost all of his hair and his face was sallow and pale.

But it was him.

I stepped closer, pressing my face against the glass. Red burns covered the majority of the tanned skin that I could see - raw and itchy scabs littered his arms, hands and face. His fingernails were black, either with dirt or pressure or something else entirely.

A handful of nurses were in the room, checking his heart rate and blood pressure and bandaging some of the larger wounds on his face.

I couldn't get over how thin he was. He looked like a rack of bones. I didn't want to guess how much food and water he'd seen over the last 3 years because judging from how malnourished he looked, it was hardly any.

I realised I was holding my breath. I didn't want to disturb anything, disturb him from resting. His eyes were flickering as the nurses moved around him. I didn't know what that meant but it didn't appear to be a positive sign.

If I froze this image or simply stayed here forever, my nose pressed against the glass like a child in a candy store, maybe he'd remain stable. He'd stay like this for the rest of his days, stable enough on the drugs and oxygen that the nurses were pumping into him.

But the selfish part of my brain wasn't going to let me do that. I had to ask him my questions - I had to know whether my dad was alive or not.

The fact that I could get an answer in the next minute was a sensation that I wasn't prepared for.

I tapped lightly on the window, not wanting to frighten him. One of the nurses narrowed her eyes at me and quickly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

'How is he?' I murmured, my voice sounding hoarse. The nurse's face relaxed as she bit her lip, peering into the room through the window. 'Can he have visitors?'

Her silence told me everything.

'There's nothing we can do.' she said softly after a moment and my heart sank. 'We're just trying to make him comfortable.'

'He's dying?' I breathed and the nurse nodded.

'I'm surprised he's not dead already, considering how malnourished he is and how much sand and smoke he has in his lungs. He can hardly breathe.' I tore my eyes away from the nurse and back to his body. He looked almost peaceful but every couple of seconds he'd draw in a haggard breath.

It was clear he didn't have long.

'You know him?' The nurse asked quietly and I nodded, biting my lip.

'He's a family friend.' I replied. 'I can't believe I'm actually seeing him. It's as though he's a ghost or something...'

The nurse nodded, her eyes searching mine for a moment before she spoke again. 'He's probably only got a few minutes. You can sit in with him if you like.'

'Thank you.' I said, as the nurse pushed the door open for me and I stepped inside, squinting slightly under the harsh hospital lights.

'She's a family friend.' The nurse explained to her colleagues as I turned a chair towards his bed and slowly sat down, reaching for his hand. I hesitated a moment before taking his hand in mine.

It felt like a block of ice. Cold and frail compared to my own.

It was impossible to imagine that this was the man who used to chase me and my sister around our garden, that this was the man who'd stood beside my dad when he'd married my mom and gave the speech that sent everyone in the room into floods of tears.

His eyes suddenly opened. Pale and almost translucent. I smiled, squeezing his hand slightly, unsure how the react. My questions were still throbbing in my mind, determined to be asked.

'Hey.' I said softly, watching his eyes scan my face. 'It's me. It's Regan.' John didn't speak and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I needed to get my questions answered. But I knew that every breath he took was more painful than the last.

'Regan?' It was barely more than a whisper and if I hadn't been listening and clinging onto his every breath, I would have missed it. 'Rae?'

I almost cried in relief, squeezing his hand slightly. 'Hey. How do you feel?' The second the words left my mouth I wanted to retract them. I had never been very good at small talk.

'Like shit.' He said and I chuckled, trying to lighten the situation. His eyes remained grave. 'I'm dying, aren't I?'

I nodded slightly. 'I think so.' John didn't really react. He'd probably known this for a while now.

'What are you doing here?' He asked, his voice suddenly wheezing as he clung onto my hand, his lungs spluttering. My heart missed a beat. Was this it? No, he settled back down against the bed, a weak smile on his face. 'What are you doing here?' He repeated.

'I work at SHIELD now.' I explained. 'SHIELD found you.'

'Where did they find me?' He hadn't even known where he had been. He'd been that lost.

'I don't know.' I answered honestly. 'They just told me that you were here and I wanted to see you...'

'Before I die, you mean - ' I smirked a little at this. He still had the same blunt, sarcastic sense of humor that Uncle John had terrorized us with.

'Do you remember anything?' I asked timidly, the words dripping off my tongue. 3 years of these questions whizzing around in my head could finally be answered.

'How long was I away?' He muttered, seeming not to hear me. His eyes were staring off into the distance, as though he could see something beyond me and beyond this room.

'3 years.'

'It doesn't feel like 3 years.' He said, his eyes glazing over. 'Just feels like...centuries of fighting to stay alive and - '

'What happened out there?' I repeated, my voice a little more forceful to try and tear him away from his memories.

'It's all a blur.' He whispered. 'The days all mix together.'

'Can you remember anything though?' John paused a moment, his eyes blinking several times.

'We were in the desert. There was...sand...' His voice was barely a whisper as his hand clenched in mine and I could barely breathe. Was I finally going to find out the truth? 'There was...a raccoon - '

'What? I don't think there are raccoons in the desert...' I said lightly. 'That might be your backyard your thinking of.'

'How is everyone?' He said suddenly, turning to face me as though he was brushing aside the memories I was so desperate to hear.

'Good.' I said simply. 'Eve's got a boyfriend.'

'Oh dear.' He murmured and I giggled, watching a smile burst onto his face. There were two different men sitting in front of me - the Uncle John that I knew and the Lieutenant John Brownlee whose life had been destroyed by war and pain.

'He's nice, really.' I said, thinking of how happy Eve seemed whenever she mentioned Finley.

'How's your dad?' My heart started pumping in overtime, the smile fading from my face. John must have noticed because his brows furrowed slightly. 'What?'

'You didn't see him?' John didn't answer, confusion written all over his face. He didn't remember. 'He's been missing for 3 years too, just like you. All of your team disappeared and no one's been able to find any of you, until now. You were all presumed dead - ' My voice broke as I tucked some hair behind my ear and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

John was staring at my face, his breath coming in short rasps. He didn't have long.

'I didn't believe any of it.' I continued. 'Because I can't believe that my dad would simply fade into dust, into nothingness.'

'Keep believing that, Rae.' John said, his voice low. 'Hang onto that like it's a life raft and you're drowning.' A tear rolled down my cheek as his eyes fluttered and let out another bark, coughing a splattering of blood over the sheets.

I clung onto his hand as he settled down again, closing his eyes as you would if you were just going to sleep. I watched his chest rise and fall, the effort that took written all over his face.

'Sing me a song, Rae.' He murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. 'You could always sing so nicely and - '

I knew what this was. It was his last wish. My questions were still unanswered but he was dying and this was his final wish.

And who was I to deny a dying man?

Seven Nation Army had always been his favorite song. And while I had no backing track, no band, no other music than my voice and the low hum of the machine showing his gradually decreasing heart rate.

I tapped my foot lightly against the floor to keep my tempo as the nurses turned towards me. My voice was croaky and hoarse in places as the tears rolled down my face.

But it was his favorite song and I was going to finish it.

And I did. Just as his breath finally stilled. And the grip on my hand went limp.

FEATURED SONGS:  
\- Zella Day - Seven Nation Army


	44. Quarantatre

John had been pronounced dead ten minutes ago and yet I still hadn't moved. I couldn't. I was frozen to the spot, the nurses moving soundlessly around me.

The tears were freely streaming down my face, silent and heaving and clogging up my nose to the point where I could barely breathe.

The nurse pulled a sheet over his body, shooting me a sympathetic look as she did so. But they'd never be able to fully understand what hope his discovery had brought me. And what I'd now lost.

A few short minutes ago, I'd be struggling to grasp the fact that he'd been found, that he was here, that he was actually still alive.

And now he was dead. His lungs had given up, too corrupted by the sand and smog and waste that he'd breathed in to function for any longer.

Every breath had been a challenge for him. I should be glad that he was dead - his suffering was now over. He didn't have to struggle anymore.

But I wasn't. Not wholly.

Because the only information that I'd received was about a raccoon. And that made me want to burst into tears all over again.

'I'll take his body. And I'll sort out his funeral - ' I sniffed, looking over at the nurse who nodded, scribbling down a few words onto a sheet of paper.

That was the least that I could offer him.

He didn't have any remaining family, his parents both having died a year ago, and I wanted to do something for him. The one last thing I could offer him.

I knew my mom would want to do something for him as well.

Oh God...my mom...how the hell was I going to explain this to her?

But I needed to. There was absolutely no way in hell that I could keep this from her, not that I wanted to.

I didn't know how I was going to put my feelings into words.

Slowly, as though I was treading through water and my muscles couldn't function properly, I left the room.

Outside, the corridor was just as it should be - agents bustling around, doctors shouting orders, the incessant buzz of machinery. It was impossible to think that my life had been re-built and fractured again in the space of 5 short minutes and yet everything outside was still the same.

My eyes were still blurry from the tears that continued to fall but I could swear that down the corridor, leaning against the wall, was Steve. And next to him was Phil, talking quietly.

But it couldn't be. My eyes were too blurry for me to trust my vision at the moment. And even if it was, I had other things that I needed to think about at the moment.

Like calling my mom.

I popped my head into the room again and asked one of the nurses if I could borrow her cell. She agreed, handing it over to me.

I almost dropped it when I saw the time. 9:03 AM. Where the hell had the last 12 hours gone?

Up in flames, that was where.

I knew that my mom would be at work by now and I hated disturbing her because I never knew what top secret, government stuff she could possibly be getting up to.

But I needed to talk to someone, to explain to them that John Brownlee - Uncle John - was dead.

My mom picked up on the 4th ring.

'Hello? Agent Hamilton here, who is - ' I almost cried when I heard her voice, relief sweeping through me.

'Mom, it's me.' I coughed, trying to clear my throat and speak clearly. It didn't work. I still sounded like a crying mess. My mom paused a second.

'Rae? What's the matter? Are you okay? I heard - '

'Uncle John's dead.' I said bluntly. The words still didn't sound real. I would have called it a joke if I hadn't just seen him die in front of me.

'Uncle John? As in John Brownlee?' I nodded, realizing that my mom couldn't see me.

'They found him in a hospital in Cairo labelled as a John Doe and brought him back to SHIELD.'

'Is he alright? Is he there now? Does he remember anything? Rae? Rae - talk to me honey - '

But I couldn't the words got lost in my throat. I sucked in a deep breath, wiping my nose on the back of my hand. Get a grip, Rae.

'He just died. He asked me to sing and I did Seven Nation Army and - ' I broke off, choking up.

'Oh sweetie.' My mom murmured and there was nothing that I wanted more than to cuddle her and forget that this ever happened. But sadly, I didn't have that luxury.

'He didn't remember much. Something about a desert and a raccoon. But he seemed pretty messed up. That was probably the malnutrition talking and the sand messed up his lungs - ' I rambled.

'How did he die, Rae? Does anybody know?' My mom cut me off, getting my thoughts back on track.

'Malnutrition and something was up with his lungs so he couldn't breathe properly. The nurses said they were clogged up with sand and - and he was covered in burns. But they didn't look like heat burns. More like friction burns.'

My mom didn't speak for a while and I was beginning to think that she'd hung up, but I could her faint breathing on the other end.

'What? What are you thinking? What - '

'I can't believe they actually found him.' She murmured quietly, sounding a little choked up. I'd only seen my mom cry once. It wasn't something I was used to.

'I know.' I muttered, brushing some hair from my face and taking in a few deep breaths.

'It's been so long that I'd pretty much - ' She couldn't say the words 'given up' because that would admit that she'd failed and stopped hoping.

Everyone had though, whether they admitted it or not. Everyone except me.

I'd ignored all the reports and the voices telling me that the chance of my dad coming home decreased rapidly with every single day that passed.

I would only give up hope when I had a body in front of me - whether that body was living or not.

'He asked about dad.' I said slowly. 'He'd forgotten that dad was even out there with him. He seemed to have forgot about everything at all.'

'Maybe he thought he'd got out. Out of whatever hell hole they found themselves in.' My mom mused, her voice cracking.

I bit my lip, leaning my head back against the wall. This whole situation brought so much grief and pain to my family and even 3 years later, the unanswered questions were still eating us alive.

'I'm going to try and do some digging and find out what John could have possibly been doing at an Egyptian hospital when his team was posted to Syria.'

'That's quite a trek - ' My mom muttered.

'And someone must have noticed them making this trek. Or at least know something about them. And then I'm going to find them and they're going to come home.' I rambled, tears springing to my eyes again.

This wouldn't be the first time that I'd looked into my dad's disappearance. I'd spent every waking moment of the first year after his appearance attempting to track him down and looking for clues and even taking to the leaders who'd sent him to Syria.

And I'm come up with nothing. And I was still reeling that I couldn't even find my own father. It made me feel like a failure.

'You've got a lot on your plate at the minute, honey - ' My mom said after a moment and my eyes narrowed. Did she not want me to find him? 'I don't want you pushing yourself too hard and getting stressed out. It's not your responsibility to find them.'

But that's what it felt like. It felt like I was the only person who was putting in any effort to try and find them, as though I was the only person who cared.

And even though the government had sent countless teams out to try and find them and that the relatives of the other missing members were still grieving their losses just as I was, I still felt as though it was me and only me who could do anything.

And that every second I spent not looking for them, I was letting them down.

'Have you heard about the gala?' I asked after a moment, knowing that of course my mom would be aware of everything that had happened.

'Yes, I heard.'

'So you know that everyone hates me now?' I heard my mom sigh.

'I know it must be hard, sweetie but - ' My mom was suddenly cut off, her voice disappearing and I was simply left with the dull ring of the dialing tone.

I guessed that either like my own, her phone had died, or that she'd been called away to something much more important than her moaning child.

I mean, she did work for Interpol.

But did she really know what it was like? She'd never had to work for more than one organization at the same time while I had.

I'd done it for little over three weeks and it was already making me sick.

I needed to do something about it. I couldn't go on working like this and it wasn't even because of the grilling I'd received from Fury.

It was that I was sick of running around for two different agencies and having two different sets of ideals. Wasn't that my whole role at SHIELD? To make sure that the UN's goals and SHIELD's goals were the same?

And I'd failed. Obviously. Or I wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place.

At the next available second I was going to ring Ross. I was going to Ross and tell him I was sick of being his double agent within SHIELD and that I wasn't going to follow his 'direct orders' anymore if lives were at risk.

I was going to tell him everything that I'd been suppressing

I was going to do my job.

\- Oooh! What's happening next?


	45. Vierundvierzig

The canteen was fairly empty, given that it was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. And I appreciated that. Not only so that I would avoid the glares from passing agents but so fewer people would see my rather red, tear-stained face.

Despite the fact that my stomach kept rumbling at regular intervals, I lingered in the doorway for a moment. The smell of fat and batter was almost overpowering, especially when all of my senses seemed heightened.

I didn't think I could actually stomach any food, not without risking throwing it all back up onto the floor during my training session later.

A cocktail on the other hand I definitely wouldn't have turned down. Drowning my emotions in a fruity concoction decorated with a paper umbrella seemed like heaven right about now.

Yet sadly, SHIELD didn't sell any alcoholic drinks until 6pm.

But now that I was working the night-shift...

Maybe working nights wouldn't be so bad?

I really was starving though as my stomach let out another growl. The hors d'oeuvres definitely hadn't tamed my hunger and it was bordering on 16 hours since I'd last eaten a proper meal.

I took a step forwards, reaching for a tray and a knife and fork. There were three agents already in the line, discussing which flavour of water to get.

As soon as I slid up next to them, their conversation fizzled out and they all shot me sharp looks.

Charming.

I knew that news of my rather exciting night would be all the way round the compound by now and there was nothing that I could do about that.

But I didn't care, I told myself. I didn't care. I was acting in the best interests of everyone at the gala and I knew that. Anyone else's opinion shouldn't matter.

Biting my lip, I reached for a bottle of water. I needed to re-hydrate. And seeing as cocktails weren't on the menu, I might as well take the healthiest option.

This is the attitude I should have come into SHIELD with, one where I didn't care about riling people up or setting them off. Not trying to win people's trust by spinning lies and misshapen truths to them but by simply being myself - my whole self, not diplomatic Regan who needs to be liked by everybody.

If I'd done that, then maybe this whole mess would have been avoided.

I caught the waft of the beans and the bacon that were cooking in the kitchen and gagged. I was going to be sick. I was going to be sick. I was going to be  -

I suddenly heard somebody calling my name and turned around, stepping out of the line and scanning the canteen. My eyes locked onto a hand that was waving at me, a beaming smile on her face.

Jemma.

And a guy who looked very familiar but whose name I couldn't place.

I grabbed an apple and my bottle of water and hurried over to them, thankful to be away from the smell of grease.

'I can't believe you're here!' I said, embracing Jemma in a hug and breathing in her fresh, clean scent. She looked exactly the same as I remembered her: soft brown hair and dressed in a blazer, patterned shirt and neatly pressed trousers.

'I know, it's crazy!' I used to see her all the time when I was younger when we'd go on holiday to England to see my dad's distant relatives (aka Jemma's part of the family).

And now we'd both wound up being agents of SHIELD. Fate had a funny way of working sometimes.

'Isn't it just - '

'And this is Leo Fitz.' Jemma explained, the name clicking into place in my mind as I turned to the man sat next to her. He was basically her work-husband: her most trusted science colleague and fellow rocket scientist.

At least...that was how I remembered him.

'I knew you looked familiar.' I said, sitting next to Jemma and taking a long gulp of water.

'I don't know whether that's a good thing...' he murmured under his breath and I grinned, watching Jemma shoot him a long glance.

'And we're dating - ' Jemma said suddenly and my eyes shot wide, moving between Jemma and Fitz.

'Really? That's great, congratulations.' I beamed. 'And congratulations on the promotion too.' I said, suddenly remembering that Jemma had recently been made head of one of the science departments.

It couldn't have gone to a more deserving person.

'Thanks.'

The conversation then trailed off as I slowly started to eat my apple and not throw up all over the table, Jemma and Fitz both talking in quiet voices.

I knew what this tension was. It was the elephant in the room, hulking and massive, looming over me whenever I tried to have an actual conversation with someone that I actually liked.

The shit show that had been the gala. And then the discovery of John's body.

'How are you?' Jem asked after a moment, her eyes sincere and I gulped, faking a smile.

'I'm fine.' I insisted, ignoring the look on her face and staring down at my half-eaten apple. Jem didn't say anything, just looked at me as though she could clearly see through my façade and that she knew the truth.

I wasn't fine. Not really.

'It didn't click with me at first, who he was - ' Jem continued, my breath hitching in my throat. 'But then I realised.'

'How did you find him?' I asked, remembering my promise to my mom. And even if she hadn't accepted it, I'd meant every word. I was going to find them. And they were going to come home.

'We were following up a lead. They worked in the hospital and were looking after a John Doe who'd recently been brought in. The lead didn't come to anything but Coulson instantly recognized the John Doe.'

'And his name was in the system, too - ' Fitz added and I realised that as the special-ops team was part of the government then it made sense that another government organization would also have tabs on them.

Maybe that meant there would be some information in the SHIELD files that could help me?

'His condition had been slowly deteriorating for a couple of days but Coulson managed to pull some strings and get him on the jet to bring him back here.' Jem continued.

'He died about 15 minutes ago.' I murmured and I saw Jem and Fitz both freeze. The words still felt dry and dead on my tongue.

'Oh my - I'm so sorry Rae.' Jemma breathed, snaking her arm around my shoulders and pulling me towards her.

'I am too.' I mumbled, thinking back to the few yet eternally important moments I'd spent with John before he died. 'I was a surprise to see that he was really alive at all.'

'Do you have any idea what he was doing in Egypt?' Fitz asked and I shook my head, blinking away some of the tears.

'He was stationed in Syria.'

'I guess we'll never know.' Jem said.

'No.' I said sharply, causing her and Fitz to both look over at me. 'I'm going to look into why he was there. Someone out there must know something. And I'm going to find them. I owe him that.'

I was unspoken whether the 'him' was John or my dad. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was all of the group.

'Did you get to speak to him? Did he remember anything?' Jem asked and I nodded.

'A raccoon.' I muttered, a smile slipping to my lips.

'I don't think they have raccoons in Egypt - ' Fitz said seriously, his eyes narrowing and I chuckled slightly at his expression.

'I know.'

'His autopsy will reveal some things.' Jemma promised, shooting me a kind look.

'Yeah.' The image of John lying dead on a slab, having his body cut open and his insides examined wasn't an image that I particularly wanted to dwell on at the moment. Especially when I still felt like I was going to throw up.

'So how's everything else going?' Jemma asked, her tone suddenly brightening and a smile blooming on her face. Her optimism and happiness really was infectious as I felt my mood instantly lift. 'How is being a SHIELD agent?'

'So you haven't heard what happened? In Prague?' I said bluntly, my eyes switching between Jem and Fitz's faces. They looked blank, shooting each other a vague look.

'No...Why? Did we miss anything?'

'I was basically inches away from being sacked because I was following orders and trying to help people. And SHIELD now thinks that I'm the personification of evil - '

'What? I'm sure that's not true, Rae.' Jem insisted.

'Fury's put me on the night shift doing fuck knows what and - '

'I'm so sorry, Rae.' Jem insisted, taking my hand and cutting me off before I could work myself into a frenzy. 'I didn't know it had been like this for you. I promise everything will work out alright in the end - '

Get a grip, Rae. You're hardly on the brink of death. Get a grip, suck it up and carry on doing your job.

'I know.' I said strongly, forcing a smile onto my face and taking another glug of water. 'I've got some therapeutic exercise later which should make me feel a bit better. It's knives, maces and...other throwy things - ' I said warily, causing Jem to let out a giggle and Fitz smirked.

'They're putting you through your paces, then?' Fitz asked and I nodded heartily, my eyes widening.

'Oh yeah. And then I've got advanced guns as well this afternoon. And I have to find some time to sleep.' And get caught up with my work. And get home to check on Stella. And then get back to SHIELD for my night shift and -

'Throwing something will make you feel better.' Fitz assured me and I smirked, tucking some hair behind my ear.

'And seeing some very attractive male specimens.' Jem said with a gleam in her eye and I snorted, hiding my smirk.

Checking out hot SHIELD agents was very low on my current list of priorities, given all that happened. But as usual, Jem was right. Maybe it would make me feel better...

\- Any thoughts?


	46. Сорок пять

I struggled through the rest of the day by keeping my head down and focusing on the task at hand, whether that happened to be throwing knives, swinging maces or firing guns at various hard-to-reach targets.

And Trish. Trish was a big factor for me making it through the day without punching anyone in the face. It seemed that even the recruits seemed to have some idea of what had happened in Prague, probably from listening to the gossip between agents, and many of them had took it upon themselves to glare at me and whisper to their friends behind my back.

I didn't know whether I was being excessively paranoid but I also began to think that Steve, Natasha and Barton were also paying extra attention to me - treating me more harshly than the rest of the agents as well as giving me more stick for making tiny errors.

I was probably just reading too far into things. But regardless, by the time my first night shift rolled around I was in a pretty rotten mood.

I'd not been able to pop home or check on Stella who was staying at the vets for the time being, something that was beginning to drive me a little crazy.

I'd also, after consuming a large amount of caffeine, psyched myself up enough to call my brother and sister and inform them about John.

They were both as shocked as I had been, probably even more so because they'd both convinced themselves that he really was dead.

It turned out that I also had my siblings to thank. My sister had spent the majority of the day at my house looking after the dogs and taking them for walks, seeing as Tuesdays were her day off.

My brother had also helped me out, taking over Stella-sitting-duties from Trish and handling all of the stuff at the vets - the bills as well as the admin and I didn't even want to think about how many hours he spent sat in the waiting room, flicking through magazines which had been published years ago.

I was more than grateful. They'd completely re-adjusted their day around me and that was something I could never really forgive myself for.

I knew that Jacob had had plans with Cari, plans that had been established many weeks ago, that he'd had to drop to come and look after Stella. And while he hadn't been particularly happy about it, he'd still done it.

But, obviously, Stella's wellbeing was much more important than his sex life.

He'd also given me a run-down of everything that the vet had said, not missing so much as a word.

It definitely wasn't a tumor or any form of cancer. This had immediately calmed some of my racing nerves and the situations that I'd been conjuring in my mind.

But now the vet was fairly certain that she had hookworms and after a quick research session, my nerves had been re-lighted after I saw just how seriously ill Stella could have become if Trish hadn't been on hand.

Jacob had assured me, though, that seeing as Stella now had the right medication and was receiving the help that she needed, she would be better in no time.

I was still quietly panicking though. Stella was my baby. And I hadn't seen her in more than 24 hours.

My sister had also helped in taking the other dogs to the vets for them to be tested too and thankfully, they'd both been clean and healthy.

Jacob had mentioned something about my home being 'decontaminated' and this word hardly filled me with joy either as I had no idea as to what this entailed.

Google hadn't been very helpful, either.

I had reasoned that Stella must have picked up the worms on one of our many walks through the woods at the back of my house. And while deep down I knew that there was really nothing I could have done, I still felt a wash of guilt.

All of this combined, I was feeling rather sorry for myself and I was locked in a square metal box with my tumultuous emotions for the next 6 hours.

Wonderful.

The surveillance room I'd been told to set up camp in really was no less than a small, square, metal box fitted with various screens and radio devices.

From my spot, I had access to every single camera on the SHIELD compound and it was my duty to keep watch of them and to record any suspicious or alarming behavior.

And even though it was nearing 11pm, there were an alarming amount of agents still milling around the base. Many were training in the gyms and fitness rooms although some were hanging out in the canteens.

Some agents, I'd noticed, even appeared to sleep on the compound.

Now that really was a poor work-life balance.

I'd been rather surprised to see that I'd actually been provided a list of things that Fury or Hill or whoever was in charge of surveillance wanted me to check; in the movies, surveillance always appeared to be a lazy, doss task.

But not at SHIELD. At SHIELD, they have lists.

It was only a rather small list but it was still much more guidance than I had expected to get.

I needed to look out for anyone messing or tampering with any of the electrics because the lights were still on the blink, despite the engineers taking a look and not being able to find any problems with the system.

But it wasn't just the lights. The compound's water supply was being affected, especially access to hot water, and even some of the automatic locks on the doors had been playing up, causing a number of agents to find themselves locked in rooms.

The whole thing seemed rather suspicious to me. And yet still Hill had assured everyone that it was nothing serious and was being looked into.

I couldn't help thinking that if it was nothing serious, then surely it would have been fixed by now, wouldn't it?

My second and final task was to search for who was littering around the SHIELD compound. It was a much less severe issue but still. I wasn't really in the position where I could ignore orders.

Over the next hour, I searched every single camera and every single frame for any sign of anything that looked suspicious. I named every single agent I saw, narrating their movements as though they were in an action movie, and making any notes that I thought were relevant.

I made very few notes.

I was going to be sat in this box for 5 hours. I needed something to keep myself entertained. And awake.

I'd also quickly learned that Steve was among some of the agents still on the compound. He still hadn't left he gym, despite the fact that the other Avengers had left many hours ago.

He obviously wasn't too desperate to get back to his Brooklyn apartment that he apparently loved so much.

I made careful notes of where all the electricity mains were located, keeping an eye on all of them for any agents lingering in these corridors for an unnecessarily long time.

I didn't see any. The corridors were clear.

While keeping my eye open for the offending agents, I also began my search for the gang who were responsible for spreading all the litter across the fields surrounding the compound and causing havoc for the cleaners.

Spreading litter sounded like something my old classmates would have got up to on the weekend when they were supposed to be doing their homework instead of government agents, but who was I to contradict the words written on the paper.

I hadn't truly realized just how vast the SHIELD grounds were. It wasn't simply the track that I'd run round an insane number of times; the land stretched out far beyond that.

And that left me with a lot more ground to search for the mysterious gang of ruffians who were coating the fields with chip packets and cans of Pepsi.

I sighed, cracking my neck sharply and resting my head on my hand. The novelty of surveillance quickly wore off and I was now sure more than ever that Fury had ordered me to this as a form of punishment because I was finding very little to enjoy about the whole task.

It was grass. Just fields and fields of grass and a few trees and a shrub and -

I suddenly shot forward, my eyes pinned to the spot I'd just been focusing on.

I'd seen something. I was sure I had. Something glinting in the moonlight. What was it?

There! I saw it again! Something black and shining under the light. My muscles tightened. It was the barrel of a gun. I knew it was. I needed to inform someone. There was on a shooter on -

Oh.

My breath suddenly released as I mentally kicked myself. I was definitely getting too paranoid.

The fox scampered out from behind the bush, half a loaf of bread in its mouth, it's dark eyes shining.

I really needed to get a grip of myself.

So that's who the infamous litterer was. It was a fox rooting through the trash.

SHIELD had been reduced to shreds by a fox. I rolled my eyes, lolling my head back in my chair and giving the clock a careless look.

Just 3 and a half long hours left.

At least that was one problem that could be solved simply.  
   
***  
An hour later, I really had lost my patience. There had been no movement on any of the corridors where the electricity mains were located and the fox had since finished chasing a mouse in the undergrowth and had disappeared.

I'd taken to humming and whistling various show tunes to keep my mind busy. But what I really wanted to do was sing. And it was taking every ounce of my willpower not to start.

Well, why couldn't I sing? I was sat alone in a metal box on a corridor that no one ever entered near the toilets and had just caught a menace that had been running rampage on the SHIELD compound.

I could sing if I wanted to.

And that was why I started belting out some High School Musical classics. Just to prove how professional and mature I was.

I rattled through some of my favourites: Bop To The Top, I Don't Dance and Breaking Free more specifically.

I kicked my feet up onto the desk, scanning through the screens as I twirled some hair around my finger. I really was -

I pushed away from the desk, my eyes shooting towards the door and I nearly fainted for several reasons: standing in the doorway, a gym bag swinging from his arm was Steve, looking rather more sweaty and disheveled then I'd ever seen him.

'Can I help you?' I asked leaning back in my chair and watching the slightly amused sparkle in his eyes die as I spoke. I thought he'd left the compound half an hour ago. It was almost 1 in the morning. Why the fuck was he even still around?

If there was one thing I was sorry about, it was the way my relationship with Steve had completely broken down after the gala. We no longer joked in advanced guns and I'd no more private pull-up sessions.

And I missed that. I missed knowing that my training sessions wouldn't be all doom and gloom - I used to be able to count on Steve to shoot a joke or a funny comment my way.

Now there was nothing. Only a glint in his eye that seemed to fade every time we made eye contact.

'I was just on my way out and I was wondering where the noise was coming from.' He explained, crossing his arms across his chest in a defensive manner.

Yet he was still stood in the doorway. So he couldn't be that upset with me could, he?

But he had called my singing 'noise' so I guessed I still wasn't top of his friend list.

'Well, it was me.' I said, turning back to the screens. 'It's been a rather uneventful evening - '

'Some agents might find it distracting.' He said and I furrowed my eyebrows, watching him open the door and leave, letting it shut quietly behind him.

My singing was distracting? What did that even mean? Was it distracting in a good way? Or had I been pissing him off?

I didn't know. I didn't know how he felt about me at all any more.

But I was determined to push past this. I was here to do my job and that was what I was going to do. I was going to stuff Steve and SHIELD politics and everything else that had been consuming my mind for the last few weeks.

I had just solved a major SHIELD problem and they were indebted to me.

Kind of.

I'd just caught a killer fox.

Not really.

But I wasn't going anywhere. And they were all just going to have to get used to it.


	47. 四十六

Two days later, it turned out that I'd reached the midpoint of my SHIELD training. And that fact alone terrified me a little bit.

First thing on Thursday morning we all gathered in a training room, after I'd had a fitful nights sleep after staying up half the night on my second surveillance watch, for Steve, Natasha and Barton to explain to us just how the next two weeks were roughly going to go.

And it suddenly felt a lot like school again.

Tomorrow we were going to go through SHIELD's complex and impressive history as well as some basic bomb-disposal exercises in case we ever found ourselves in that situation.

Then, for the rest of our time in the training program, we would be practicing all of the skills we'd learned over the last two weeks in preparation for our final evaluation at the end of the month.

Everything had suddenly got a lot more serious. We had just less than two weeks to get ourselves into shape and up to scratch to pass the evaluation and to actually become agents of SHIELD.

Or rather, for me to bump myself up a couple more levels. And then, in theory, people would see that I actually was someone to be taken seriously and could actually do my job.

Today, however, we wouldn't be learning any more skills but would be completing some fitness tests. Even as the words left Steve's mouth, I felt Trish roll her eyes beside me and I began to inwardly groan.

I did not want to do any fitness tests, especially when we were going to be compared with how we'd done on that first day of training which felt like a lifetime ago.

I'd nearly worked myself to exhaustion that day. And now I was going to have to push myself even harder.

But, as I surveyed the rest of the agents in front of me, I saw that no one really looked particularly excited at what the day had in store for us.

It seemed that the brevity of the situation, and what these last two weeks, really meant because absolutely no one wanted to have Natasha Romanoff kick them out of SHIELD and tell them they weren't good enough.

Although the looks that Natasha kept throwing my way, I was surprised that she hadn't done that to me already, particularly as she never seemed to like me that much in the first place.

If our interrogation was anything to go off, she thought I was a worthless piece of crap who was pining after Steve and had her head up in the clouds.

I wonder whether she ever did tell Steve about our little conversation?

I suddenly jolted out of my thoughts as the recruits suddenly began dispersing, all disappearing to far corners of the gym to warm up.

I hastily grabbed one of the treadmills, Trish taking the one next to me, and begrudgingly set it on the slowest setting.

'We've got 10 minutes to warm up.' Trish said quietly next to me, as though she'd been able to detect that I'd had other things on my mind. 'And then we've got a day of physical activities and cross country running to look forward to.'

'How exciting.' I murmured, looking up to see Natasha, Steve and Barton circumnavigating the gym, whispering among themselves.

I bumped the treadmill up a few levels, moving into a jog so that at least I couldn't be reprimanded for not warming up properly.

'I'll do 5 minutes of running, then move onto some stretches and mobilisers.' I said to Trish, just as Natasha, Steve and Barton passed me and Trish nodded, shooting me a conspiratorial wink.

Trish really was an angel and could definitely do a whole lot better than me.

Even though it hadn't been explicitly said, it was clear that how we performed today would definitely go towards whether we passed our evaluations or not. And I was desperate to pass.

Which meant I needed to do well today. Really well.

After 5 minutes of running at a moderate pace, myself and Trish moved on to stretches. I was doing my best to ignore everybody else in the gym who wasn't myself.

They weren't important. What I needed to focus on was myself and to put everything that I'd learned over the last couple of weeks into practice.

I moved into a lunge, Trish stretching her arms above her head.

The gym was mostly silence, aside from the occasional beep of the rowing machine and the squeak of sneakers. Everyone was on edge. Everyone knew what this meant.

Me and Trish had been going for a run pretty much every day for the last couple of weeks - aside from the day that Trish had officially titled 'The Prague Episode' - and while I still detested running, I had become a tiny bit better which was good because, as I subtly looked around the room as I started rolling my shoulders, it seemed everyone else had got a bit better too.

After rolling out my head and shoulders, I moved onto to loosening my hips and hamstrings by kicking my legs up into the air.

One thing I was really happy that I'd improved over the weeks was my flexibility and while it might not have been the most useful skill in a fight, it made me feel a lot more confident in my own body.

It was also useful because as I moved onto sidekicks, I felt the eyes of the recruits surrounding me following my every step and Trish had a smirk on her face.

Or maybe that was because they also knew about the Prague Episode, which I presumed they did because the only way they could have avoided the information would be if they had been living under a rock for the last week.

'This is brilliant.' I murmured under my breath as I stretched out my quads with Trish by my side. Her brows furrowed. 'They all probably hate me too. So now they're all going to try and trip me up when we're running.'

'If they do, I can demonstrate some of my crazy martial arts skills.' Trish muttered back and I grinned, pausing for a moment to re-do my ponytail. I did not want any distractions, especially not flyaway pieces of hair.

'What skills are you going to do for your evaluation?' Trish murmured to me as I moved into some deep lunges. Steve had explained to us that we needed to pick two physical skills that we'd learned over the weeks to be tested on in our evaluation.

And my options, it seemed, were fairly black and white.

'Hand to hand combat and guns.' I said, shifting all my weight onto my legs and lifting my hands off the floor. Trish smirked.

'I'd get beaten to a pulp if I did hand to hand so I think I'm doing guns and knives.'

'The only thing I can do with a knife is dice an onion.' I replied with a smile, switching legs and feeling a twinge of pain. My left leg was definitely my weaker leg.

'Why don't you do artistic gymnastics?' Trish asked. 'Then you could do deadly baton twirling or something - '

'Because I had terrible hand-eye coordination when I was younger.' I explained, moving down into the splits with ease. This was a definite indicator of how much my flexibility had improved over the last few weeks.

I arched my back and lifted my arms over my head, watching Trish stretch out her calves and mouth the words 'show off' in my direction.

'I'm not a literal ninja - ' I retorted back, watching Trish roll her eyes.

***  
When our warm up time was finished, Steve, Natasha and Barton took us outside and an impending sense of doom began building in my stomach and pressed against my spine.

It was still there as Steve explained what was going to happen - we were going to split up into pairs and then each person would run the track and earn points for their pair, depending what position they came. The pair that finished in the top three overall would win a prize.

I could feel Trish's gaze on me as we stood on the field listening to Steve, in the hazy sunshine.

Yeah, we weren't winning that prize.

But I needed to improve on how I'd performed on that first day of training and that meant that I had to come in the middle of my group.

That was a big enough ask in itself.

I immediately paired up with Trish as soon as Steve gave the order. It wasn't even a question anymore.

'We can do this.' Trish said in my ear, being as optimistic and open-minded as ever. I shot her a stern look. There was no way we could possibly beat recruits like Christine and hot guy 3 who could literally be Olympic runners.

'We've improved a lot.' Trish reminded.

'So has everybody else.'

'They don't have our grit and determination.' She said with a smirk.

Natasha explained that there were two tracks that we could chose from: one was flat grass and the other was cross country. One member of the pair needed to tackle the grass and the other the cross country.

'If we're trying to get the most points - ' I started, my mind whirring, 'then I think you should take the grass. I'm the same pace on whatever terrain but I think you'll do better on the flat ground.' Trish nodded.

'Yeah, that's fine. So I'm grass and you're cross country.' I nodded. I knew that it was going to make absolutely no difference to my time whatever ground I was running on so I figured I should give Trish the best chance of getting more points.

Looking behind me, I could see the cross country track: an area of woodland at the back of the SHIELD compound that consisted of a lot of rugged trees and muddy ground.

Maybe all my dog walks in the woods would stand me in good stead?  
   
***  
   
As I predicted, Trish ran really well on the flat grass and she actually came 3rd out of the 12 agents in her group and this gave her a total of 10 points.

Now I was feeling more nervous than ever. I didn't want to let Trish down. I wanted to beat my previous performance. I wanted to show everyone what I was made off, that even small people could do stuff.

Not running, but I could do other stuff that they just hadn't seen...

The track was just over 5 miles and as we all set off, my anxiety still brewing in my stomach, some agents around me were acting as though that was merely a step, blazing far in front of the group.

I tried not to focus on them, just on my own steps and my breathing.

I wasn't a runner. This was stupid. But I was determined to finish and not come last. I'd be happy with anything above 8th place.

To be perfectly honest, I would just be happy not to trip over a log and fall face first into the mud.

As I usually did, I had Non-Stop from Hamilton spinning around in my head and I focused on the song lyrics and running in pace to the song as I did so. Hamilton was my go-to motivational music, not just because it was a fantastic musical but because of the links that it had with my own life.

My dad actually was called Alexander Hamilton.

On the fringes of the group was Natasha, keeping an eye over all of us to make sure there was no cheating going on and to see just how well, or not, we were doing.

She didn't even look to be breaking a sweat whereas I on the other hand was drenched and panting and my legs were aching beyond belief.

I really wasn't a long distance runner. I was better at short sprints with the knowledge that my life depended on it shouting at me in the back of my mind.

I was in 8th place as we reached the final kilometer but a couple of agents began to pull away, racing for the finish line. How they still had that amount of energy left I didn't know.

I wasn't going to let Trish down. Even if I was perfectly happy with my current position, I was going to do better for Trish.

I started to go a bit faster, pumping my arms and forcing my legs to move. I had some energy left, deep down, I knew I did.

I edged around a runner in front of me, hot guy 1, who unlike his fellow hot guy was definitely not the running type.

It was clear what his type was though, just by looking at his bulging muscles and tall stance. He could pummel me into nothing if he wanted.

And I was going to run faster than him. I was determined to.

Up ahead, I could hear the cheers off the rest of the agents and in the crowd I swore that I could detect Trish shouting my name.

I wasn't going to let her down. I crept slowly up the ranks, moving up to 7th and then 6th and then -

I felt my legs give in and I cradled my head in my hands as I hit the ground. Mud splattered my face and my body let out a groan of protest.

I didn't know whether I'd tripped over a log or someone's leg, whether accidentally or they'd deliberately tripped me over. 

But it didn't matter. I didn't stop to think that I was now covered in mud or that my leg was throbbing or that the rest of the agents were now ahead of me.

I pushed myself unsteadily to my feet and started running again, catching Natasha in my peripheral vision. She'd been watching me like a hawk, lingering by my side.

She'd seen my fall face first into the mud. I was never going to live that down.

I wiped some mud from my face on the back of my sleeve, pushing forwards. I couldn't stop now. I couldn't come last. I wouldn't let myself.

I caught sight of the others up ahead and started running faster, urging my muscles to move even though they were screaming out in pain.

I was running full pelt now, as though there really was a band of assassins chasing me, the lyrics swirling around in my head.

I couldn't hear anything other than my thundering heartbeat and the rasping of my breath.

 I wasn't going to come last. Even though I was covered in mud, I wasn't going to come last.

I caught sight of Trish in the crowd, her voice soaring over the others and this spurred me on. I wasn't going to let her down.

I wasn't going to let myself be last. I was going to show them all what I was made of.

Even if I was covered in mud and everyone was looking at me as though I was some kind of exotic beast.

\- Poor Rae - but where did she come in the race?

FEATURED SONGS:  
Original Cast of Hamilton - Non-Stop


	48. Quarenta E Sete

It was safe to say that we didn't win, even after Trish's impressive run.

I ended up coming a rather measly 10th and my 3 points, combined with Trish's left us at 6th place on the leaderboard. It certainly wasn't last and on any other day I would have been ecstatic to come in the middle of the table.

But not only was I now covered in mud, I'd let Trish down - even if she didn't mind and was more concerned with the mud that was clinging to my hair.

The prize ended up being vouchers for a pizza place downtown and while they didn't exactly promote the healthy lifestyle that all SHIELD agents were supposed to lead, I couldn't help but feel a little bit gutted that me and Trish weren't receiving any.

If I could work up the courage, I was going to ask Natasha whether she had seen what had happened - whether I really had tripped over a log like I presumed or whether someone had actually tripped me up.

And if they had tripped me up, then I was going to make sure they got coated in mud too.

I wasn't given any time to clean myself up, which I guessed was proof enough of just how much Steve, Natasha and Barton didn't like me, but this meant I went through the rest of the day wearing a mixture of mud and sweat like a second skin.

And boy, was the rest of the day exhausting.

It passed in a blur of press-ups and crunches and endless laps of the field. I tried not to stop even for a moment because whenever I did I'd get an angry comment barked at me from either Steve, Natasha and Barton.

It was clear that they were being harsher on me than they normally were and some of the other recruits were beginning to notice it.

Trish murmured to me while we took a brief pause from doing press-ups while Barton wasn't looking that they really needed to give me a break, before we started doing them again twice as fast as he turned back around.

I couldn't argue with the treatment, though. I had guessed it would be inevitable.

If an agent at the UN had been running around behind my back, I certainly wouldn't be happy about it. But I also felt like they were dismissing any pass I made to try and redeem myself and really show them what I could do, when I wasn't busy trying to be diplomatic.

I'd been keeping my head fairly low ever since returning from Prague and not recommending any changes that would cause any outcries. I'd specifically been looking over some finances and the agents pensions and current wages.

The long and short of it was that I was checking everyone received the money they were owed, whether that was in benefits or wages.

I had at some point wanted to look into the groups of agents assigned to different missions and see if there were any conflicting personalities that would stop some of the agents performing at their best.

But considering how I was pretty much the most hated person under SHIELD's roof, I decided to leave this for at least a few days.

But who was I kidding? They wouldn't change their attitude in a matter of days, would they?

I was just going to have to make them. We really were back at square 1. Or square minus 1.

The next day, on Friday morning, I took a 2 hour class on SHIELD's history which I was very surprised - yet happy - to see was being led by Phil.

It mainly consisted of him listing of various rules and regulations and protocol that we might not have been familiar with as well as some of SHIELD's most successful missions in the past.

I really did feel as though I was back at college again and was seriously considering making myself some colour-coded flashcards so that I could get all of the information into my brain.

I hadn't seen Jem or Fitz since our meeting in the cafeteria but I assumed that they were both very busy in the science and tech departments of SHIELD, who were always looking for ways to advance.

Trish was set next to me, eagerly scribbling down notes as Phil ran through the role that SHIELD had played in the Second World War. I might have zoned out a little, as planes weren't really my thing, only listening to the times that Peggy Carter was mentioned.

She really was the definition of a bad-ass. And I felt a small, if ridiculous, pang of jealously that Steve had got to meet her.

Although if the rumours were to be believed, he'd done more than just met her.

But I wasn't in the habit of listening much to rumours. They were based on nothing but heresy and I'd learned only to act upon strong, hard facts.

At least, that was what I told myself.  
   
***  
   
I'd almost forgotten that this afternoon we were being taught how to disarm a bomb. But when I returned to the training room after lunch to find Barton standing in front of a bomb, I was very quickly reminded.

As were all the other recruits.

I noticed Steve lingering on the outskirts of the room as Barton ushered us over, quickly addressing that this particular bomb wouldn't cause a gaping hole in the floor if it was detonated - it would flash and cause a tiny spark but was nothing to be afraid of, which was reassuring.

But not really.

I hadn't spoken to Steve in the last few days. In fact, I'd barely spoken to anyone who wasn't a family member or someone from the gang.

And I didn't really know why because I wasn't embarrassed at my actions, not really. But something had happened that night which now made it difficult for me to look him, or Barton or Natasha, in the eye.

Barton briefly explained how we'd never be expected to disarm a bomb - they had a whole bomb disposal unit for that - but they thought it would be a good skill to teach them as it needs a steady hand and good hand-eye coordination, which were both important for SHIELD agents.

And, you never know, you might come across an unexploded bomb in the middle of a mission and need to disarm it.

Trish shot me a look. Neither of us had this high on our list of priorities.

We were then led into another training room where Steve split us in half: half of the agents were led into another room by Barton and the other half remained with Steve.

Mercifully I was still with Trish but also had to now work under the watchful eye of Steve. And something about him made me nervous in a way that I'd never felt before.

The room was the largest training room that I'd seen on the SHIELD compound and was really more of a basement. Currently inside it, were 11 large SHIELD-issue SUVs. My eyes narrowed. What were they going to ask us to do?

'Now that Barton has showed you how to disarm a simple bomb, you're going to have a go.' I felt everybody in the room stiffen. It couldn't hurt me. I knew that. But I still felt slightly terrified.

'He wants us to do what?' Trish hissed beside me as the recruits started murmuring among themselves and I could hardly blame them.

'If you do something incorrectly, you'll receive a small electric shock. Each bomb is located under the car which some of you might know, is a favorite hiding spot for bombers. So I want you to each chose a car - '

There was a brief moment of fumbling as the recruits took in his words and turned to face the rows of cars in front of us. I shot Trish an uncertain look and watched her take in a deep breath before nodding at me before starting towards the car closest to her.

I quickly moved towards the car next to her, forcing myself to get my head together and remember every tiny thing I'd seen Barton do just moments before.

I was going to be fine. It was under a car and my brother was a mechanic. I would be fine at this.

I was pretty decent with my hands, considering how small they were, and I was okay at doing small, fiddly things which this was the epitome of.

Despite that, I didn't particularly want to be sparked.

'You've only got 2 minutes on the clock because in situations like this, time is never on your side.' Steve said and I felt my eyes grow wider.

I knew that time would never be on my side but 2 freaking minutes? Was he serious?

This was Steve Rogers, Captain America, that we were talking about. Of course he was serious. He was always serious.

But he wasn't, not always. I'd never forgot the bantering between us when he'd tricked me into doing push-ups for him, or the joking we'd exchanged at the gala before everything had gone to shit.

Right. 2 minutes. I had this.

'And...begin!' I crawled onto my knees and slid under the car, snatching the small flashlight that we'd all been given and smoothing the heart-rate monitor onto the skin over my heart. I wriggled into position, my eyes scanning the mess of wires that were strapped to the bottom of the car.

I really needed both of my hands for this. I carefully positioned the flashlight into my mouth and angled it towards the bomb. There. That was better.

The heart rate detector that we'd also been supplied with was linked up to a machine so Steve could see how fast our heart rate was and whether we were panicking or not.

I took a deep breath as my fingers began to gently untangle the wires, the threat of an electric shock restricting my movements.

Before this class, my idea would have probably been to cut all of the wires and hope for the best. But I knew that that would probably result in me receiving some large electric shocks.

I began working a little quicker, pushing this threat to the back of my mind. If I was really in this situation, I wouldn't have the threat of an electric shock to worry me.

I'd have mere minutes to diffuse the bomb and the consequences if I failed would be a lot worse than an electric shock.

While I'd never had to diffuse a bomb in the field, I knew that Nim had and even though she'd diffused it successfully, it had still shaken her up.

And now it was shaking me up. Slightly. I took a deep breath, knowing I'd lost 30 seconds and I was still no closer to finding the end of any of the wires.

Come on, Rae. Get a grip.

From the looks of things, the bomb was supposed to resemble a standard military bomb and I knew that classic procedure with those was to chuck it into the middle of an empty field and blow it.

Sadly, I didn't think that was what Steve or Barton were looking for.

'I'm finished!' I sharply turned my head to hear a male voice in front of me shouting. It sounded like hot guy 2. I scowled in his direction and started working twice as fast, my fingers slipping over each other as I fumbled for the wire.

My mouth was beginning to ache and I knew that with every second that passed, I was nudging closer to that jolt of electricity.

On my other side was Christina who, like me, didn't exactly look at home diffusing a bomb. I heard her let out a whimper and my eyes narrowed on her form.

I could see that she was shaking slightly, tears leaking from her eyes and murmurs of panic escaping from her lips.

I looked back to the bomb for a moment, managing to untangle another section of wire. Yes! Now I had to -

Christina suddenly let out a strangled yell that I couldn't possibly ignore. She was having a panic attack.

Screw the bomb.

I quickly scrambled out from under the car and grabbed Christina by the arm, yanking her out into the fresh air. She was heavily panting, her face bleached, with tears staining her face.

I tore off her heart rate monitor which would administer the electric shock and gently wrapped my arms around her.

'It's okay. You're okay. You're safe - ' I murmured, taking hold of her shaking hands. She must be claustrophobic. Or have had some seriously bad experience under a car.

'Rae?' Christina murmured, her eyes blinking wildly and I nodded.

'Yeah, it's me. You need to breathe. You're okay. You're going to be okay - ' I looked up as Steve approached, his face gentle and worried.

He knelt down to our level as I unclenched Christina's shaking fists and wrapped an arm around her. 'How about you take some time out?' He said gently. 'Why don't you go and get a drink with Agent Romanoff?'

Natasha immediately materialized behind him as though she'd been summoned. Christina slowly nodded, unpeeling herself from me and stumbling to her feet. She shot me a grateful look before Natasha led her out of the training room.

I let out a breath. I knew what that kind of all-consuming, wild fear was like.

Steve rose to his feet, running a hand through his hair and shooting a glance at his watch.

'You've got 15 seconds to diffuse that bomb, Hamilton - ' He said crisply, before turning on his heel and walking away as another cry of 'finished' filled the air.

I glared at his retreating back for a moment, wondering whether it would be childish to stick my tongue out at him, before my impulses kicked in and I stumbled back under the car.

I got back to work, the flashlight resting on the floor as I couldn't spare the seconds that it would take me to re-angle it in my mouth.

My hands were sweaty from holding Christina's and my heart was beating so loudly I was sure everyone else in the room could hear it.

I heard a shout from my left. Trish had finished. A smile slipped onto my face. I just had two more wires to untangle and then -

My muscles suddenly locked and froze as a brief surge of energy shook through them that left my head ringing. I inwardly groaned, rubbing my eyes with my hands.

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

\- It's not going great for Rae, is it? When are things going to get better?


	49. Førtiåtte

That night I was back on my surveillance shift which meant I was back inside my box. For the last three nights I'd basically been running off of 5 hours of sleep which might have been enough for some people but for me, my tank was running on almost empty.

I was pretty sure that I'd only managed to make it through the last few days because of the amount of caffeine I'd consumed. I wasn't a religious coffee drinker but over the last few days I'd become an addict.

Caffeine had become my new best friend and I'd been particularly enjoying picking a new amusing mug at the beginning of each day to bring to work with me.

If anything, the funny slogans and images on them helped to perk me up a little when I was feeling particularly sluggish or miserable.

At the moment, my favorite happed to be one that I'd pretty much forgotten I owned: it had been a present from Britt for my birthday a couple of years ago and since I'd found it at the back of my cupboard, it had become a constant fixture on my desk.

Mercifully, Stella was getting better with every day that passed and, according to the vets, it shouldn't be too long before she was back to her old self again, which made me very happy.

Partly because Stella was my baby but also because getting her to take medicine was like getting a kid to eat vegetables. She'd point blank refused to take the tablets out my hand so I'd had to come up with creative ways to hide them in her food so that she couldn't find them.

I really was indebted to Trish and my siblings for taking so much time to look after all the dogs and it made me feel slightly guilty sometimes that they'd taken time out to cover for me when all I was doing was practicing my gymnastics or replying to emails while dodging glares that would follow me in the corridors.

I'd considered on more than one occasion telling them that I was working on some really important government file or that I had the fate of the city resting on my shoulders when in reality I was stuck in a box watching a fox run around a field and was singing show tunes.

I'd affectionately named my fox companion Boris and I'd began to consider him a friend. He was one of the only people who didn't glare at me as I passed them in the corridor.

I was 2 hours into my shift and absolutely nothing of interest had happened. The only thing that had happened was that I'd seen a rather disgruntled agent kick a guy out of her room and slam the door in his face.

I'd made a note of his name and would check up on him if I needed to.

Though seeing as I was pretty sure that I was the only other person who'd witnessed this, I didn't know if this made me more of the friendly neighborhood superhero or a stalker.

Hmm...

The lights had been playing up again, flickering and flashing at random moments in the day, which definitely was beginning to become more of a concern, particularly because I knew quite a few agents were epileptic.

To make matters worse, the some of the computers had also crashed in the afternoon meaning that the IT people had been frantically running around trying to get the systems back on track.

The problem was definitely getting more serious and I refused to simply brush it under the carpet any longer. Something was happening and it seemed that no one on the entire compound knew exactly what.

I felt sorry for the maintenance people who'd had to tell Hill that they had no clue what was happening. She was beginning to get very annoyed, as was Fury.

I had spotted Stark sitting in Fury's office earlier, both of them looking quite tense about something. All I could hope was that it wasn't another Ultron incident.

Tonight my songs of choice happened to be a lot of Grease songs and while I might have quietened down slightly (because I wanted to conserve my voice and not because Steve had asked me to) I definitely wasn't going to shut up entirely.

It was just me and Boris and Betty Rizzio for the next 3 hours. And that sounded like I pretty perfect way to spend my time.

Even if I was on the brink of dozing off. I didn't think Fury would be particularly happy to see me sleeping on the job.

My eyes suddenly caught a flicker of movement as I turned towards the screen of cameras. An agent was walking down the third floor corridor.

The server rooms were on the third floor corridor. My heart skipped a beat.

I brought up all of the connecting cameras from that corridor and watched the man take a key from his pocket and enter the server room, armed with a bag of tools.

Hmm...

What was he up to in the server room at 1 in the morning?

I quickly brought up his SHIELD file and scanned his details. Andrew Jordans. He was a family man from Baton Rouge who'd been an army engineer in the past but was now a SHIELD engineer.

He was squeaky clean. No criminal record, no past offences. He seemed like a perfectly typical guy.

But could I really give him the benefit of the doubt, considering what had been happening over the last few days?

My eyes narrowed and I zoomed in on his image.

He really was just doing his job, which was to fix all of the things around SHIELD. And he did work the night shift, so I couldn't really find him coming in at 1 AM suspicious, could I?

I bit my lip, confusion clouding my thoughts. What could I do? I couldn't go and accuse an innocent man. That wouldn't win me any favors with anyone.

I'd have to give him the benefit of the doubt for now but that didn't mean that I'd forget all about it. I carefully made a note of his name, my mind still whirring.

What if he was the reason behind all the mysterious happenings at SHIELD? And I was just letting him stand there?

If he was I would find out about it, I promised myself.

I wouldn't do anything for the time being and I'd see what came of it.

But no way was I going to forget about it.

FEATURED SONGS:  
Vanessa Hudgens - There Are Worse Things I Could Do


	50. Kanahakumamaiwa

The following day, at 3:51 PM sharp, I pulled up in the car park of the slightly shabby village hall that had housed my weekly dance lesson for the last 20 years.

The village hall certainly wasn't large by any means and was in desperate need of some renovation but I didn't care. I'd been coming here for the last 20 years and was the place that had really ignited my passion for dancing.

It was also the spot that I'd first met Sam when he'd been holding one of his meetings. My friendship with Sam had pretty much saved my life, in more ways than one.

I could go as far to say that he had maybe even saved my life too.

Out of the gang, myself and Bertrand were definitely the biggest dancers of the group. No question. There wasn't a day when I didn't burst out into a dance routine in my kitchen. And my passion for dance was one of the reasons that I'd befriended him in the first place.

Even when I'd had to chose between dance and gymnastics, and had ultimately ended up picking the latter, I'd never stopped doing dance as a hobby and had never stopped turning up for my weekly lessons.

Never. I think in the 20 years that I'd been going for lessons, I had missed one when I'd be sick with chicken pox and had basically been quarantined inside the house.

The car park was relatively busy and I spotted Bertrand's battered pea-green car sitting in the corner. I also recognized a couple more cars from people in my class; it was testament to the sheer amount of time that I'd been going that I could identify people by their cars.

I clambered out my car, reaching for my bag and my water bottle, locking it and making my way towards the door. Inside, I could hear the faint sound of voices and the rhythm of some 80s bass music.

My teacher, Hillary, had a rather eclectic music taste.

I weaved past the people who were gathered in the foyer and made my way down the corridor towards the room that acted as a changing room and resting space for all the dancers before the class actually started.

Through the glass doors I could see that quite a few people were already there: Sarah who had crazy green hair, Luca who I was pretty sure bred llamas and Olive who was the tallest person that I'd ever met in my entire life and made me look more like a six year old than I already did.

And Bertrand. Of course Bertrand was there.  
   
While the other dancers were chatting as they performed some rather simply stretches, Bertrand was sporting a look of sheer concentration as he rolled out his shoulders.

I smirked as I opened the door, watching how the majority of the girls' eyes were pinned on his figure. It was a known fact that most of the girls, and some of the boys, were head over heels in love with him - which was both amusing and slightly sickening at the same time.

It wasn't exactly hard to see why - he was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome with his Italian looks and tanned skin. But he was practically a brother to me and to think of him in any romantic sense was just strange.

Britt found the whole situation hilarious and Bertrand didn't seem too bothered, though he never encouraged the attention. They could flirt with him all they wanted but I knew that his heart was firmly with Britt.

'Hey! How're you doing?' I asked as I entered, Bertrand looking up from his head rolls, a smile immediately appearing on his face.

'Great - '

'I see the fan club has assembled - ' I murmured, gesturing over to the far side of the room where a collection of girls were all staring at him with dreamy looks in their eyes.

'Ha ha.' Bertrand said with a roll of his eyes and I smirked. 'What did I miss last week?'

'Oh yeah! You were skiving, weren't you - ' I cast my mind back, recalling how I'd been alone for our 45 minute session.

'I wasn't skiving, I was at an audition.' Bertrand moaned, rolling his eyes again and I giggled.

'How did it go?' He shrugged, turning away from me and jumping up and down on the spot for a moment. 'Have you heard back from them?'

'Nope. They're taking their time with it - '

My heart immediately sank for him. He spent so much time rushing to and from auditions, perfecting his lines and dance routines and yet he still was often left with no work for weeks at a time.

'No news is good news - ' I said after a moment, trying to think of what Trish would say in a situation like this.

'That's only for when you've committed murder, Rae.' He replied, the sarcasm hiding the hurt in his voice.

'If they didn't like you, then they would have said no to your face.' I continued, rolling out my shoulders and checking that my ponytail was secure.

'They obviously don't want to waste any of their energy on me - '

'Okay, stop this - ' I sharply, gripping Bertrand by the shoulders and staring him straight in the eye. 'Stop being so negative. I think you're amazing. Britt thinks you're amazing. We all think you're amazing. Even your little fan club thinks your amazing. You're going to get this audition.'

Bertrand didn't reply for a moment, his eyes searching my face. He sighed and smiled at me, running a hand through his hair.

'Okay.' He murmured, nodding and I released him from my grip. He was the best dancer that I knew and I wanted him to know this. 'Thanks Rae - '

'You got it.' I grinned, rolling my shoulders and stretching my legs.

'Are we all ready?' I quickly turned to see Hillary's lycra clad form peering around the door, her blonde hair clamped firmly to her head. She was a little eccentric and slightly intimidating but she had a heart of gold and I basically considered her a family member.

I shot Bertrand a look and he looked back at me, his eyes wide. Were we ready to become so drenched in our own sweat that we thought we were going to drown? Were we ready for our muscles to become jelly and our lungs to physically ache?

You bet we were.  
***  
It wasn't even my fellow classmates that were in love with Bertrand; Hillary was borderline obsessed with him as well. She would make jokes about when they were getting married basically every week and she jokingly called herself Mrs. Falcone whenever she got the opportunity.

Yes, it was very cringy and I pretty much wanted to go and stick my head in a sand bucket whenever she said it, but I'd simply got used to it over the years. And so had Bertrand, it seemed. He was gorgeous and funny and could sing and dance.

Of course he was going to have a group of lovers trailing after him wherever he went.

To start, Hillary put us through an insanely intense workout that included far too many squats and crunches and not enough breaks.

By the end of our 10 minute stint, I was ready to collapse on the floor and was seriously considering using that warm-up as part of my physical development skin.

Because anything that made me sweat that much could definitely be considered 'physical'.

Hillary allowed us a 2 minute break to grab a drink and take a breath. I leaned against the wall, panting heavily and swallowing huge gulps of water. I re-adjusted my ponytail, my hands slick with sweat.

Next to me, Bertrand was sitting slumped on a chair, his normally groomed hair sticking up on his head and his face read. We shared a look as Hillary called us back into the center of the room.

She was feeling ruthless today. And judging from how slowly the other people in the class were peeling themselves off the chairs and moving towards the dance floor, we were all going to be dead by the end of it.

Each week we focused on a different style or type of dance and this was the main reason why I could dance pretty much any dance I put my mind to - thanks to Hillary's teaching, I was ready for any situation life threw at me.

Well, near enough.

We all gathered in the center of the room, sweat still dripping down my forehead but I wiped it away. Hillary brought out the deck of cards and a resounding 'oooh' echoed around the room.

On every card was a different genre of dance and each week a member of the class would pick a card and that was the genre we'd do for that week. It was supposed to work on some kind of rota but we never stuck to it.

And unsurprisingly this week, she passed the cards over to Bertrand.

He quickly flicked through them, the air quiet and tentative as I tried not to breathe too loudly. I was supposed to be a super fit SHIELD agent not a panting mess.

Oh well. I still had just over a week to get into shape. No pressure.

'Okay - ' He said finally, picking a card from the park with a showman's flourish. 'We've not done this one for a while. The 60s - '

A bubble of chatter and excitement exploded in the room as Bertrand winked over at me. The 60s. That was a load of disco and dance fads that no one in their right mind ever do in public but society had tricked people into thinking they were cool.

It was basically Hairspray. And I loved Hairspray. And I was pretty sure Bertrand knew this as he was grinning at me like a manic, holding his palm out to me.

'What do you say we give these good people a bit of inspiration?' He muttered, his eyes gleaming as the rest of my classmates talked through moves and music that they could use. My brows furrowed.

'You mean - '

'A little song and dance to get everyone in the mood - '

'And this little song and dance is along the lines of...' He clicked on his phone and one of my favorite songs from Hairspray filled the room.

Bertrand really knew me too well as he knew that this was not only one of my favourite songs but a song that we'd choreographed a dance to in college.

The music seemed to get under my skin and kicked me into motion, the steps flooding back to me as if I'd only left college yesterday and not 7 years ago.

I faintly recognized Hillary shouting out some corrections to us - my leg wasn't quite straight enough, I needed to flex my hand more. But I didn't really care.

Music basically was my life. And unlike the politics and the alliances, it wasn't shady or complex or corrupt. It just...was.

It was what had brought all of my best friends together. It was what made me feel happy and alive and broke my heart and pieced me back together. It reminded me why life was worth living.

And as cheesy as it sounded and as much as I hated my own brain for thinking it, it made it possible to forget all the crap that was happening in the world and in my life and make me just enjoy...living.

FEATURED SONGS:  
James Marsden - It's Hairspray

\- A bit of a reflective chapter from Rae - how's she going to continue with this attitude?


	51. Fifty

I spent pretty much the entirety of Sunday swotting up on more of SHIELD's past, going for a 2 hour hike with Trish and battering my body into gear. I was going to be able to do a round off, one and a half step-out and a round off back handspring if it killed me.

And to be fair, it probably would do.

By Monday morning, I was hoping that things would have calmed down a little.

But of course, I never got what I wished for - especially when it came to SHIELD.

I could still feel people's stares on me as I crossed the compound and I'd even begun to get a whisper of the rumours that were flying around that featured me.

Some people thought I'd tried to assassinate Tony and Natasha. As if I could actually do that.

Some people thought I was having an affair with a Norwegian prince. I was hardly fit for aristocracy.

And I'd also heard mutters about a rather amusing story that paired me with a Tibetan monk and a Dutch drug-lord. I really was confused as to where they'd heard that from.

I'd moved on to going through the SHIELD attendance records that were systematically kept to see who was turning up late on a regular basis and who really should be given more vacation time.

As I squandered away the hours, alone at my desk, one particular agent kept popping up. And if my head had been in a different place then I might have just let it be.

But all the information began piling up and my head began to form a picture of the agent that I was looking at. And I couldn't just leave him. Not this time.

He'd turned up late for work pretty much every day for the last 6 months. He had a long and painful history with depression. He was pretty much a hermit. He didn't have any remaining family. He'd been admitted to hospital in the past for self-inflicted wounds. He looked like a ghost - his face pasty and the bags under his eyes dark.

I sat for a moment, my chin resting on my hand as my eyes scanned his profile. I knew how hard it was to ask for help. But I didn't want to push him even further into himself by asking him.

I didn't want to set him off. No one liked me. No one would want to answer to me and spill their darkest, most personal secrets.

But I'd never be able to live with myself if I just sat here and did nothing and he carried on living his life, falling further down into the pit of his own troubled thoughts.

I quickly found his location. He was in strategy training with Steve. I gulped, my hands gripping the edge of my desk.

I had to do something.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I briskly left my office and made my way over to the training room. I brushed a hand through my hair, my eyes gazing through the open door to try and find the man I was looking for.

My eyes kept catching over Steve's figure as he talked, my attention honing in on his authoritative yet gentle voice.

I shook myself out of my trance, stepping into the room. I was doing the right thing. At least, I thought I was.

He noticed me immediately, his eyes locking onto my figure and narrowing slightly. Yet he didn't acknowledge my presence as he continued talking to his class.

Well, that hurt.

Once upon a time, the Avengers had been placing bets on when Steve and myself would get together. Now he was acting completely indifferent to me.

In some ways, that hurt more. But then, we'd never been anything more than colleagues and co-workers. Even if he had been a very nice and funny colleague and co-worker.

Steve set the agents off on a task and made his way over to me. I pulled my shoulders back trying to make myself taller. But that was hard for anybody when they were standing next to Steve Rogers.

'I'm sorry for interrupting, Captain Rogers.' I said sharply, deciding at the last minute to use his official title and I saw his jaw tighten slightly. 'But I was hoping I could speak to Agent Grindley for a moment.'

'What for?' He asked and I bit my lip.

'He's not been turning up for work on time and it doesn't look like he's been eating or sleeping much. Things have escalated very quickly in the past for him and I want to try and help him before things get that far.'

Steve stared at me for a moment, his eyes searching my face. My legs were jittering so much I was surprised I was still standing. What was he thinking? Would he refuse? No, he couldn't do that. Could he?

I suddenly spotted him in the crowd. He was standing slightly stooped, his hair greasy and his hands jammed in his pockets. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I waited a moment for him to respond.

'Agent Grindley?' Steve called after a moment and I could have fainted with relief. 'Can you step outside for a moment?'

Slowly, Grindley turned his head to look at me and I smiled what I thought was a reassuring smile.

'Just for a moment, though. This is important - ' Steve replied quietly to me and I nodded as Grindley skulked away from the crowd towards me. I stepped back into the corridor, not thinking this was the conversation he'd want all his colleagues to hear.

'What's this about?' He asked gruffly, his eyes not meeting mine. I suddenly realized I had no idea how to put my worries into words. I guess I'd just have to try.

'I'm Agent Hamilton and - '

'I know who you are.' He interrupted sharply, his mouth curling into a sneer. So everyone really had heard about the Prague episode.

'I've been looking at your SHIELD file and I'm slightly worried about you.' I said as gently as I could, my voice calm and my arms down by my sides. The last thing I wanted was to freak him out.

'Why?'

'You've developed a habit of turning up late for work. From the looks of things you haven't been eating or sleeping very much.'

'What's that got to do with anything?'

'I just wanted to have a chat and see how you were doing.' I said, thinking I could have phrased the whole thing much more eloquently. But I couldn't turn back time.

'I'm fine. Can I go back to training now?' I sighed. I'd never been very good at speaking like a councilor. I tended to go into things with all guns blazing.

'I know that moving on after the death of your sister can't have been easy. I can't imagine what that must have felt like.' Grindley's eyes narrowed. 'Some of your old symptoms are being to creep back in. I think - '

'You don't know anything about me - ' He snapped suddenly. 'I'm fine.'

'I know that,' I continued, trying to keep my voice smooth. 'I just want you to know that they're a lot of places where you can go for help.'

'I don't need help.'

'Then why do you have cigarette burns on your wrists?' I'd noticed them the second he'd come to talk to me. I just hadn't known I'd have to use them against him in such a blunt way.

Grindley didn't respond. He pulled down the sleeves of his shirt so that they covered the burns, his eyes burning. His hands clenched into fists. The only sound was the murmuring of voices coming from the next room.

I had to no idea what Grindley was thinking but he didn't look particularly happy. Were my words having any impact on him at all? I needed to keep talking.

'You're insisting that you're fine but I can see that you're not and I don't want you to go down the same path that happened last time.' I said gently, watching Grindley's every move.

'I'm not going to take advice from a traitor - ' He growled and I stepped back a little.

'I'm trying to help you '

'I don't need help!'

'Yes you do - '

Suddenly, his arm swung up to punch my face and my reflexes kicked in as I dodged to the side. He aimed another and another. I kept dodging them, blocking his blows with my arms.

My heart was racing. Every time I blocked him, I could see the fury grow in his eyes. The aggression and denial was clear on his face. He was going to explode if I didn't do something.

So I did something that I never thought I'd ever do. I let him hit me.

I stumbled back, the punch sending me reeling and my head started to spin. But I could see it in his expression that he was beginning to calm down a little.

Should I carry on? I didn't want to make him angry but I could see that if I didn't do something, he was going to hurt himself even more.

Grindley took three steps towards me, raising his fist as though he was going to swing again. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a blur of movement and suddenly Steve was dragging Grindley back and restraining him.

I felt my head. I was going to have one hell of a bruise tomorrow.

Steve was talking to him, quietly and patiently in a way that I'd never been able to master. But Grindley was still fighting against him, his eyes blazing with anger.

Yeah...he really wanted to hit me...

'I'm on your side.' I said, creeping forward. What was it about not showing fear when facing a wild animal? 'I'm on your side, I promise.'

Whatever I'd heard had obviously been a lie because Grindley managed to wriggle away from Steve's restraints and jab me in the face again. Steve grabbed Grindley by the scruff of his neck, dragging him backwards and standing firmly between him and me.

I felt something warm trickle down my face.

Aah. I'd so missed my nose bleeding.

'I suggest you take a moment, Agent Grindley.' Steve said sharply and I watched him skulk away down the corridor. I took in a few deep breaths, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.

What had just happened? Who's side was Steve on? Yes, he'd grabbed a guy to stop him punching me but he was also currently glaring daggers at me.

'So he didn't take your kind words well, then?' Steve said firmly, the sarcasm clear in his voice. I didn't know whether to storm away or slap Steve myself.

But, instead, I took in a deep breath and kept a cool head.

'I didn't want him to spiral like last time.' I replied, coolly.

'Lots of people would have trouble listening to a suspected spy.' Steve said, his voice brutal. I narrowed my eyes. So that's how it was, was it?

I was still evil.

Good to know.

'And I thought everyone here was supposed to be mature.' I murmured under my breath but still loud enough for him to hear before turning on my heel and going to walk away.

'This organization runs off trust. No one can trust you  - '

'It's funny, really - ' I said, suddenly whipping back around to find his face inches away from mine. My eyes flitted down his face, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.

'What is?' He asked, his voice gently kissing my face. I raised an eyebrow. I was immune to his charms.

Obviously. Because then why was I staring into his eyes and resisting the urge to clasp his hand in mine.

'If it came down to it, I'd trust you all to help me.'

\- Ooh! What's happening next?


	52. Cinquante Et Un

Walking out of the SHIELD doors 4 hours before my shift was supposed to end only increased the feeling that was brewing inside of me - that I really was the rebellious, untrustworthy agent that everyone seemed to think I was.

But I was doing nothing wrong. I'd practically begged from Hill to be able to finish early, saying that I had exemplary circumstances.

I'd even promised to work overtime tomorrow if I could also have the night off my surveillance shift.

And for some reason, she'd allowed me. On both counts.

I strolled towards my car in the deserted parking lot, the silence unnerving me slightly. Because as much as I hated to admit it, it did feel nice to be able to get away from SHIELD for a while.

As I knew it would, news of my encounter with Agent Grindley had spread like wildfire. I'd had no idea who'd started spreading the rumours, whether it was Grindley himself or some of his fellow agents or even Steve. but what I did knew was that I'd yet to hear a version of the story that showed me in a positive light.

Some people were saying that I had hit him. Some said that I'd goaded him into it. But I didn't care. I'd got something off my conscience and as now Grindley was being watched by the medical team, I could at least rest a little easier.

But I wasn't going to think about that, right now. I was going to push SHIELD and work and the UN to the back of mind.

I had more important things to do.

I kicked my car into gear, slowly pulling out of the parking lot. I was hoping to miss the mid day rush-hour but seeing as I was setting off a little later than I'd wanted to - I'd underestimated the time it would take to get myself ready - I wasn't sure if I'd achieve this.

Frankly, I was astounded as to how my mom had managed to arrange a funeral in the space of a week but she had. The church where I was headed wasn't particularly big but was the closest to where Uncle John had lived.

I halted at a pair of lights for a moment, my palms slipping over the wheel. My heart was pounding and my legs felt like they were made of jelly.

Why was I so nervous?

Because enduring the next 2 hours meant digging up painful and raw emotions that I didn't have under control. It meant facing the truth that I'd been shouting from the rooftops for the last 3 years but everyone else had ignored.

It meant seeing the look of hope hovering over my mom's face. And if I was wrong, then I was going to hurt her even more.

I could remember the conversation that we'd all had last week. Myself, Eve and Jacob had all turned up at my mom's house and I'd explained everything, my eyes firmly planted on the ground.

Because if I met anyone's eye then I knew I was going to burst into tears.

Neither Eve or Jacob had taken in particularly well. I'd expected this. They'd firmly accepted the fact that dad was dead and were moving on with their lives and then I threw everything back into their faces.

They'd both shouted. A lot. And I hadn't known whether they were angry at me or angry at the world for putting them in that situation.

Maybe it was both.

Eve had taken it the worst. She was the youngest and had been barely out of college when he'd been announced officially missing in action. My hope had hurt her, I knew that.

We were both pessimists most of the time. But she'd banished any hope of seeing dad ever again while I'd clung onto it. And having to look into her eyes and tell her all her work at moving on with her life might have been pointless had killed me.

Mom had also, somehow, talked me into doing the eulogy. She'd asked me personally to do it with her. I couldn't turn her down.

She'd said she asked me because Eve had barely spoken a single word since I'd told her the news and Jacob really didn't like public speaking. At least, that was what he'd been telling everyone.

I, on the other hand, thought he was refusing out of fear. He was scared that if he had to get up in front of the entire congregation, then he'd break down.

Uncle John didn't have any surviving family so I expected it to be a fairly small funeral, but I knew Mom had been in touch with some of his army officers and old friends who had all promised to be there.

I set off again, swerving around the corner and thinking of the knife-throwing class that I was currently missing. What would Natasha, Barton and Steve think of my absence? Would they even care?

And what would they think of Trish's absence? As soon as I'd explained the situation to her, she was eager to attend the funeral. She'd known him as my dad's best friend who was always having a beer whenever she came round to our house.

It was those memories that I wanted to cling onto.

I knew that the rest of the gang would have come if they could but, seeing as the funeral was at such short notice, I wasn't really surprised they couldn't make it.

Remi and Bertrand had driven out to Connecticut at 5 this morning to get to some auditions that they'd been prepping for for what seemed like months. I couldn't ask them to turn back.

Cari was at a shoot all day and was barely allowed to have a 5 minute lunch break, never mind go to a funeral and then go back. And Britt was stuck in a 10 hour shift at Barneys and had used up enough of her holidays doing favors for me.

I stalled again at a pair of lights, my ears not even picking up the airy pop song that was blasting around my car as my eyes shooting to the clock on my dash. I had 20 minutes before the service was due to start.

Plenty of time.

The eulogy was sitting on the seat next to me. Just looking at it made me want to be sick.

None of it felt real. None of it.

I had to keep pinching myself that I'd even found him. That it really had been him who Phil had dragged back from Egypt.

The one resounding link that I had to my dad had re-appeared after 3 years, then died and was being buried today. How I could gain hope and have it crushed all in the same week.

But my hope for my dad wasn't going to be buried with Uncle John. I knew that Eve's would be, but I wasn't going to let that happen.

I'd kept my hope alive for 3 years and would continue to do so until I saw a body that resembled my dad.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I pulled up behind the long line of traffic that stood between myself and the church. I was going to be cutting it fine, time-wise.

Why had I let Mom talk me into this? Contrary to popular belief, I didn't actually love public speaking but as it is an integral part of my job, over the years I'd slowly learned to get quite good at it.

That didn't mean that I overly liked it though.

Speech writing and eulogy writing were completely different however. And the pieces of paper sitting next to me were the product of several previous drafts that had ended up in the trash. I could have easily turned John's eulogy into a rant about how Dad was still missing but I hadn't.

Uncle John deserved better than that.

I'd had to dig back into my memories surrounding him; memories that didn't involve him being MIA in a foreign country. The cringy jokes that he always told, his constant bad breath, the way he never talked about himself. How we'd always receive a Christmas card and how he never forgot anyone's birthday.

I felt like I was missing out on 3 years of memories. I should have more recent things to say about him. But I didn't. Because he'd been forced into a hell-hole and it had killed him.

I'd had to sit next to him and watch him die.  
***  
After what felt like an age, I finally pulled up in front of the church. Stood outside the wooden doors, I could see the slight figure of my mom, dressed in a black dress and long black coat. And surprisingly, Eve, Jacob and Eve's boyfriend Finley were stood next to her, all dressed in black.

I swallowed the nauseous feeling that rose in my throat.  

I had to do this.

My legs shaking slightly, I stumbled out of my car and approached the doors to the church, wrapping my coat tighter around myself. The sky was gray. Rain looked inevitable.

'There's more people than I expected here.' Mom said as a way of introduction and I nodded, shooting Finley a small smile. I hadn't seen him in a couple of weeks and I liked him - he was nice and was patient enough to cancel out Eve's sometimes rash decisions.

'That's good.' I answered, fiddling with the hem of my coat.

'And they've left the front row for us.' This made my throat want to close up. The front row was reserved for those most affected, the people who were owed the most.

A tear ran down Eve's cheek and her face crumpled. Jacob was staring off into the distance - I didn't think he even knew I was there.

'Have you seen Trish?' I asked and my mom nodded.

'She's already inside.'

Finley was holding Eve against him as she cried into his shoulder, her golden hair curled up on top of her head. She got her hair colour from dad. I saw my mom bite her lip, her eyes going glassy.

We hadn't even entered the building and we were already crying. We were going to be a wreck.

'It's okay Evie,' I murmured, using the nickname that we all called her. I peeled her away from Finley and draped her arms around me, almost collapsing as she heaved all of her weight onto me.

While I was barely 5 foot, Eve was practically 6 when she was wearing a pair of heels like she was today. Another feature that she got from dad.

'It's not real, he's not in that coffin - ' she muttered into my ear, her voice barely audible over the sobs wracking her body. 'There's been some mistake.'

'He is.' I said softly, running my hands down her back. 'And I know you spent 3 years forcing yourself to believe he was dead and now he might not be but this is hope.'

Eve pulled away from, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. 'It doesn't feel like it.' She replied and I saw mom nudge Jacob with her elbow. He stirred, blinking and his eyes jolting to the floor.

'But it is.' I reassured her.

I didn't want to smile. That would make the whole occasion happy and it certainly wasn't that.

'We should go and sit down.' Mom said, looping her arm with Jacob's and leading him inside. I didn't know who needed the stability more - Mom or Jacob.

Finley wrapped his arm around Eve's shoulders, leading her inside after Mom and Jacob. I paused a minute, watching their figures walk down the corridor towards the main room.

The first signs of rain began to patter against my skin but I didn't move. I couldn't do it. I couldn't speak.

Singing a song would have been easier. But then, what do you sing at a funeral?

And I sang him to death. I'd already done that. That had been for him. Singing another song when he was already dead would have been too much for me.

I'd promised myself that I wouldn't cry. That I owed Uncle John that much after everything he'd done for Dad.

But the second I entered the church, the musky scent of old fabric filling my nose and suffocating me, and the rain began to pour down, the tears were already falling down my face.

FEATURED SONGS:  
\- Carly Rae Jepsen - Making The Most Of The Night


	53. Cincuenta Y Dos

I spent the entirety of Wednesday alone in my office, busily working away, glad to have something to think about that wasn't Uncle John or how much everyone hated me.

I wasn't disturbed for the entire day. Were people actively choosing to ignore me or had they genuinely forgotten that I existed?

I didn't know which was better.

On Thursday morning, I decided to take a short break from typing away on my laptop and turn my attention back to my interrogation skills.

We'd been told to prepare and go over our interrogation techniques for Friday. In essence, this meant that we were doing another test in which we were going to be assessed. And while this prospect did wrack me with nerves, I was also glad to have something new to focus on.

Keeping my mind focused was my new method of coping with all the thoughts swirling around in my head. To stop me wallowing in my thoughts about Uncle John.

His words kept ringing in my ears. So did the words that I'd replied to him.

I was going to find out why he was there. And what happened to Dad. They both deserved that.

But what if the answers that I found were more painful than the truths that I was currently living with? I couldn't think about that. Otherwise, I'd never get anywhere.

So far, the morning hadn't been any better than any of the previous mornings. Added to all the rumours that had already been flying around about me, now questions were being asked as to where I went on Tuesday because apparently people did notice my presence.

Tony had said it had been quieter than normal and I hadn't known whether to take this as a compliment or not.

I ignored all of their empty comments. If they really wanted, they could find out where I'd gone. There were cameras in all the corridors, at least one of them must have caught be bawling my eyes out over John. They just had to put the pieces together.

There had still been no official word as to why the lights kept flickering and the computers and doors kept playing up and it seemed that everybody was doing a damn good job of pretending that everything was fine.

But it's not fine. Something was going on.

And I was beginning to question whether something more sinister was going on.

Had someone tampered the systems? Botched up the mechanics and caused everything to go haywire?

I highly doubted SHIELD was the kind of place where people played with the systems just for a laugh. But how could I actually find out what was happening?

Sighing, I turned my attention back to my emails. I was never going to be able to focus on my interrogation skills with everything building up in my head.

Emails definitely weren't my favorite part of the job. But they had to be done.

I shot a look at the time. 11:05 AM. Jemma was around today, I'd seen her car in the parking lot when I'd arrived this morning. Maybe we could have lunch together?

Having said that, I knew that she was very busy with her increased load of paperwork that she now had to sign as well as keeping track of basically the entire science department.

Maybe lunch was off the cards...

I turned to send the email that I'd been constructing to the German Ambassador when all of a sudden my computer screen froze. I clicked a few times, my brows furrowing in confusion, as the screen turned hazy.

What the fuck was happening?

I'd seen this happen a few times in my years at the UN and every time it had been down to a hacker.

But who would possibly want to hack me?

My fingers quickly moving over the keys, I rattled off the few basic hacker moves that I'd picked up from Jared. Squinting at the page of analytics, my hands paused over the keyboard.

An outside source was rooting around in my files. And were currently trying to break their way into all the password protected areas of my SHIELD profile.

Those were password protected for a reason.

What did they want to find? Why did they care enough to hack me?

This was an invasion of privacy. And I was going to kick the fuckers out of my files if it was the only thing that I accomplished today.

Taking a deep breath and stopping my brain from shutting down in panic, I quickly found the information that I was looking for. The IP address of the computer that was currently hacking mine. It took me less than three seconds to match that IP address to the co-ordinates within SHIELD and then find out which room that was through the CCTV cameras.

My breath hitched in my throat. The CCTV camera was showing me an image of one of the science labs. Inside was Tony, Steve, Natasha, Barton and Sam. Tony was leaning over a computer and looking rather smug about something.

I was really not in the mood today.

And they could all fuck off out of my personal files.

I was too angry to even feel sad. I was sick of people treating me like the enemy. And it stopped now.

Tony could get into pretty much any computer on the planet. And that meant in a matter of minutes, my password protected files would become public domain.

And my password protected files were not things that I wanted everyone to know. Hence, the passwords.

I jumped up from my chair and stormed out my office, not even pausing to wait for the elevator and instead marching up the flight of stairs that separated me from Tony.

I didn't even want to think what part Sam, Steve, Natasha and Barton were playing in this whole thing. If they had so much as 1 good word about Tony hacking into my files then they were going to get slapped across the face.

I was not in the mood today.

Thankfully, the corridor leading to the science labs which meant nobody else had to get hurt in the process. I knew that I wasn't going to act particularly kindly to anyone who got in my way.

My mind was whirring. Why the hell were they hacking me? That must violate about a billion privacy clauses.

Anxiety was brewing in my stomach.

What if they found everything? I'd never be able to look at them the same again...

'What the fuck are you doing?' I asked sharply, not even bothering to fully step into the room. My fists were clenched as I crossed my arms across my chest.

Every eye in the room flew to me. Tony was still poised behind a computer, his hands frantically typing away and that was when I noticed the USB plugged into the computer.

No. I wasn't going to let them save everything.

'Hacking your network.' Tony said simply and I could have punched him. The tension in the room was palpable. One of us was going to burst sooner or later. 'Finding out all your secrets.'

'That's an invasion of privacy.' I said, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on Tony. Sam was sat slumped on a chair in the corner. He knew more than anyone else in the room and yet he still didn't know the full story.

'Only way to know whether we can trust you.'

'Excuse me?' I spat, my eyes wide, stepping forward into the room. 'I'm telling you you can trust me.'

'That's not what everyone else thinks. We need to know that you can do your job.'

'Of course I can do my fucking job - ' I said, looking wildly around the room. Natasha and Barton's expression was neutral. Steve was stood against the wall, his brows furrowed slightly. And Sam still wasn't looking at me.

'Well - '

'This is ridiculous. You don't need to hack me to know that I can do my job. Cut it out - '

'No one knows your background!' Tony interjected, turning around the face me. 'No one knows who you're loyal to or what you value or whether you'd stick your neck out on the line - '

'You don't need to hack me to find that out!' I shouted, angrily running a hand through my hair. I knew I was being erratic. 'Just fucking ask me - '

'Go on then - '

I leaned against the doorframe, taking a deep breath. I needed to calm down. Otherwise I'd end up saying something I would later regret.

'I lived in Manhattan all my childhood. I've got a brother and 2 sisters. I studied Political Science at Hunter College. I - '

'What about your worst mission?' Barton suddenly asked and my voice trailed off. He'd stepped over the line from neutral to now being firmly on Tony's side.

'That's different.' I snapped. 'And is nothing to do with my background - '

'We need to know if you could be a liability in the field - ' My anger was beginning to bubble and if I wasn't careful I was going to explode everywhere.

'So, you're saying that you all know everything there is to know about every member of SHIELD.'

'Pretty much - ' Natasha shrugged and I glared at her. I didn't doubt that she did. She was a super spy and a master of espionage. But something told me that Tony definitely didn't know the birthday of every single recruit.

'What have you told them, Sam?' I said, turning my attention to his slumped form. His head shot up.

'Nothing.' He said flatly. The room was silent. Everyone knew that there was at least something I wasn't sharing. Something lurking in the back of my head that hadn't yet been shared.

I stared at him for a moment. He swallowed and flicked his eyes between my face and Steve's. He was telling the truth. I knew that. I'd known Sam for long enough to know that he was loyal down to his bones.

'Why would I tell you anything when all you've been is hostile towards me?' I asked after a pause. I was still aware of the USB drive that was plugged into the computer and the information that was slowly trickling from the computer onto it.

It wouldn't be for much longer if I had anything to do with it.

'Says the person who tried to kill me - ' Tony mumbled under his breath and I rolled my eyes.

'I tried and successfully killed the men who were standing behind you who were responsible for attacking people.'

'You didn't actually kill them.' Steve said suddenly and my eyes shot to his face. I couldn't read his expression. Did he really hate me this much? I couldn't imagine he would honestly want to hack into my files. 'They survived.'

'Have you ever killed anyone?' Barton asked.

'This is insane - ' I scoffed, unclenching my fists before I lost all feeling in them from gripping them so tightly. 'We're supposed to be adults and this is just childish - '

'And I've just found your dissertation.' Tony said, smirking over at me. 'Now I know what I'm reading tonight.'

He was serious. They all were. They were really going to look into my files because they couldn't trust the words that were coming out of my mouth.

They were going to find everything. That is, if I didn't stop them first.

'Is everyone really okay with this?' I asked, looking blankly around the room. No one responded. 'Sam?'

'I'm not getting involved in this - ' He said, standing up from his chair.

'Then tell them to fucking stop!' I shouted, my anger bursting through. Sam knew more than anyone else. He could understand why I didn't want anyone to know. He -

'Tony.' Sam said, turning towards him with a firm look on his face. 'Is this really necessary?'

'Yep.' He said nonchalantly. 'No one can work with her because no one knows what her game is.'

'Is that it?' I repeated, my mouth open.

'You've not even told me the whole story, Rae.' Sam breathed and that was the first time I noticed how tired he was. It looked like tracing all the cold cases that he did must be having more of an effect on him that I'd first realised.

'Sorry - ' I said sarcastically, not even pointing out that neither had anyone else in the room. I hadn't tried to break into their password protected files even though part of me might have wanted to.

'Stop hacking my files.' I said firmly, turning back to Tony. I would use force if I had to. If they'd found my dissertation, I knew it wouldn't be long before everything else came out.

'Answer our questions and then we won't have to.' Natasha answered grimly.

'I shouldn't have to - ' I snapped, suddenly lunging forward and grabbing the USB stick out of the computer. 'And you definitely don't need to copy everything.'

'Tell us your worst mission and we won't have to.' That was Steve. I'd almost thought it was Tony imitating Steve's voice but no. His face was passive, his brows furrowed.

What was the world that we lived in that no one could be trusted? That even in SHIELD, a peace-keeping organization, violence was needed to keep everyone together?

I didn't blame Steve, if I was being perfectly honest. I didn't blame any of them. I had fucked up. I just hadn't been expecting to pay for that every day for the rest of my life.

'All of them - ' I said hopefully, kidding myself that this would be enough for them.

'Ah ah, that's not good enough.' Tony replied and I nodded. I knew it wouldn't be.

I bit my lip. I could feel a migraine threatening to take control of my mind.

I was seriously considering telling them. Telling them everything. Or at least as much as I could manage without breaking down.

How it had been a humanitarian mission in Sudan, nothing I hadn't done a billion times before. How I'd gone in with a team of over 40 UN workers. How only 4 of us had returned alive.

But I couldn't. Not with the pain of Uncle John's death and my father's disappearance still weighing so heavily on my shoulders. Not when I knew the second I started to talk about it, I would break down in tears.

'I can't - ' I breathed, feeling my eyes beginning to water. The thoughts were flooding back. The scorching heat. The never ending sand dunes. The physical labour. The constant fear of being beaten or worse.

Without thinking, I dropped the USB stick onto the floor and crushed it with my heel. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

'If this is what trust is, then I don't think I want yours.' I said faintly, the first tear rolling down my face. I blinked, forcing myself to concentrate on the present not the memories that were beginning to cloud my head.

'Suit yourself.' I didn't know who's words these were. I was too deep inside my head.

'I want you to know that I'd do anything for SHIELD.' I promised, almost alarmed at my own words. Tony paused for a moment and I noticed Steve's eyes soften slightly. 'And that goes for any of you too.'

No one spoke as I left the room, panic blooming through my chest. I brushed the tears away.

I needed to find Fitz. Now. And get him to stop Tony hacking me.

\- Any thoughts?


	54. Cinquantatre

I avoided The Avengers for the rest of the day, my night-time surveillance shift and the majority of Friday morning. I'd got Fitz to build up another dozen firewalls around my files so that practically no computer in the world could hack into them.

At least, that was what he'd told me.

I locked myself in my office, counting down the seconds until I had to go to my interrogation assessment and face Steve, Barton and Natasha again.

In my current state, I was pretty sure I couldn't even interrogate a small child.

I'd hardly slept last night. Every time I closed my eyes I was faced with a heaving desert where the only thing I could see for thousands of miles was sand. I saw my dad and Uncle John trying to wade through the dunes, their movements slow, their lungs hacking up blood and a torrent of bullets seeming to follow them wherever the travelled.

They ducked for cover, lying face down in the coarse sand, the unforgiving wind blowing in their faces.

And then I turned up next to them.

My hands and feet were bound with rope. I could hardly breathe because of the smothering heat. My skin felt like it was burning. My eyes stung. I was starving and my entire body hurt and every time I opened my mouth, my voice was lost in the tumultuous wind.

I looked over at my dad to see him flailing beneath a mountain of sand, his hand reaching out towards me. I tried to move towards him, inch by inch, his outstretched hand getting closer before he and Uncle John disappeared completely beneath the dunes and I was utterly alone.

I woke up in a cool sweat every time, my breath running away from me and the burn of the sand still tangible on my skin.

I wondered if I should Sam. He was always the first person I went to when my nightmares changed or got particularly terrible.

But it seemed that he'd made it very clear that he wasn't getting involved.

Or maybe that had just been a front. Deep down, I knew that if I came to him with a problem then he'd listen.

I couldn't bare to face any of them again.

I'd give it another couple of nights. If I still couldn't sleep by Monday morning then I'd go and see him. If I was still haunted by past missions by the first thing on Monday morning then I'd go and see him.

I would.

I really would.

At least, until then, I had my interrogation assessment to keep my mind occupied.

I knew that it would take me an average of 4 minutes to walk from my office over to the training room which we were required to be in at 1:20 PM.

I set off at 1:15 PM and yet I was still the first recruit there. Maybe I'd calculated wrong. Maybe, in my delusional mind, I'd walked a lot faster than I usually did.

I didn't know. But what I did know was that the only people in the training room were currently myself and Barton.

I considered turning around and walking straight back out again. But that would be childish.

Come on Rae. Get a grip.

'Rogers' Introduction to Parachuting class is running a bit late.' Barton said ruefully, the instant I entered the room. 'You can just do your own thing for a moment. Something productive - ' 

How Steve was teaching - or at least, attempting to teach - a parachuting class in a gym was completely beyond me but I didn't spend much time dwelling on this.

Barton was rather unsubtly watching me out of the corner of his eyes while he pretended to look down at his boots.

I rolled my eyes. Judging from his blunt tone and the way he was trying to create as much distance between us as possible, our relationship definitely hadn't improved over the last 24 hours.

But then, if I thought about it, he wasn't treating me any worse than he had done. And this could only be considered a positive. In fact, it was a rather large positive.

I looked out over the masses of floor space that I had at my disposal. I might as well cram a few minutes of gymnastics practice in. I had improved massively over the last few weeks but there was always room to get better.

I always practiced with music but, after a moment's consideration, I figured Barton wouldn't take too kindly to me blasting my music out of the speakers.

So, instead, I took to mentally singing 'Heathens' to myself as I kicked my legs up in the air. I smirked slightly as I jumped into a triple pirouette. This song fit my current situation quite well if I thought about it.

I'd expected to be wracked with nerves as I moved across the floor, Barton's eyes following me, but in fact it was the opposite; I felt as though I had something to prove to him.

And as I took a deep breath and completed the round off, one and a half step out with the round off, back hand spring that I'd been practicing for what seemed like forever, I felt like I'd at least partially achieved that.

I mean, I hadn't fallen flat on my face. And that had to count for something.

I quickly spun around as the mutter of human voices entered the room. It had seemed that Steve's parachuting class had finished. I shot Barton a look as he pushed himself off the room where he'd been watching me and stepped into the center of the room.

If he'd been even a fraction impressed by what I'd just done, he certainly didn't show it. But then, he never showed many of his emotions anyway, unless they were sarcastic. A brooding silence was about as good as I was going to get.

I noticed Trish enter the room at the back of the crowd of recruits and cautiously made my way over to her, shooting her a smile.

'How you doing?' Trish murmured to me as Barton clapped his hands and ordered us all to quiet down. 'I've not seen you for a couple of days.'

'As good as can be expected.' I said with a roll of my eyes. Trish narrowed her eyes and a look of concern flashed on her face. 'I'm fine. Honestly. And from the looks of things we've got more important things to worry about.'

'You're all going to be paired up with another recruit and will then take turns interrogating each other. Each of you has your own individual cover story which you have 10 minutes to learn.'

This was exactly the kind of task that I could get my teeth into. And something that I stood a pretty good chance at doing well at.

'This will be fun - ' I muttered to Trish who shot me a glare. 'Who's betting I end up a homeless woman with no front teeth and old-age arthritis?'

Steve and Natasha suddenly entered the room both holding a stack of brown files, containing what I assumed were our cover stories. Natasha shot me a look that could have put me in my grave.

'Consider that my $100 bet.' Trish replied, her lips curving into a smirk.

***  
Surprisingly, my cover story wasn't as terrible as I'd expected. Perhaps everyone hadn't been as wholly on Tony's side as I'd first assumed. And this made my confidence double up a few notches.

Still, I had a lot to prove. To everyone.

I was the young, pretty girlfriend of some political so-and-so who's family currently lived somewhere in Monaco and had a long and exciting history with the Italian Mafia. It was basically my perfect guise, so perfect that I was beginning to wonder if I'd deliberately been given one of the good options.

Was I being too harsh on everybody? Probably.

Was this some kind of peace offering? I didn't know.

But I made a conscious decision to stop glaring at Steve, Natasha and Barton as much as I had been. Maybe this was our definition of a clean slate?

Of course, I was still wary. People didn't just completely change over night.

Our interrogations weren't simply going to be taking place in a plain interrogation cube, but in a confinement space that was usually reserved for criminals.

It was basically a big glass cube. It might have been a tad showy but it would certainly create a distance between the interrogator and interrogatee. And would definitely help in creating a clear sense of authority.

I wasn't quite sure how our interrogation partners had been worked out, whether it was based on our ability level or some other method, but I had somehow ended up with Trish.

Which I was very happy about because, well, I loved Trish. Whereas on the other hand, she was complaining that I was going to slaughter her which was completely untrue.

I might have been feeling quietly confident but I was most definitely not going to slaughter her. Trish could be very feisty when she wanted to be.

Lots were drawn and, obviously, myself and Trish were the pair who were going to go first. The rest of the recruits had been told to stay in a training room where they could go over their cover story or work out.

I was going first out of me and Trish, which meant that I was currently sat inside the glass cube of doom. The door was still open though, as Trish was leaning against the door frame, because Trish's assessment hadn't officially started yet as Natasha's pen had decided to run out at the last minute.

And while I was sure Natasha could probably fashion a strand of her hair into some kind of writing tool, this wasn't as socially acceptable.

'I'll help you out as much as I can - ' I promised Trish, my hands clenching around the metal chair that I was currently sat on. 'It might not seem like it, but just try and go with it.'

Trish nodded, rolling the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows as though she was preparing for battle. 'I heard something in the canteen about you and the Avengers having a fight?'

'It wasn't a fight,' I insisted, rolling my eyes, 'Tony was basically trying to hack my files to find out more about me. And I kicked off.'

'That sounds intense.' Trish said and I nodded. 'And explains why you've been avoiding them for the last 10 minutes.'

'Pretty much.' I said with a shrug.

'So they're no longer better when you and Cap are going to get together?' She asked with a grin and I rolled my eyes.

'I don't think so.'

'Sorry.' Trish said with a genuine smile and I nodded.

'It's okay. It never would have worked out between us anyway. I'm so much cooler than he is.' Trish giggled and I stared down at my boots, trying not to let my emotions affect my composure.

I was going to smash this assessment.

'It sucks.' Trish said flatly and I nodded.

'It does.'

'Are you guys ready?' Steve's voice appeared in front of me and I looked up to see him standing outside the cube with a neutral expression on his face. This was basically how he looked every day now.

Neutral.

'Yeah.' I said, confidently as Trish nodded. Steve carefully closed the door, leaving me totally encased in glass. I would have been awed if my mind wasn't firmly on the task at hand.

'So, Miss Bishop?' Trish said suddenly, her voice turning cold and formal. A smile slipped onto my face as I leaned back in my chair. 'I have some questions for you.'  
***  
10 minutes later, Trish finished interrogating me. And, if anything, I was feeling slightly more nervous because Trish had done such a damn good job.

She'd clearly established a sense of authority and had actually made me feel quite scared. Trish could get quite frightening when she wanted to.

'Alright, Hamilton get out and let Manning get sorted.' Barton called from the other side of the room where they were watching the action unfold. They hadn't spoken at all, barely moving aside from jotting down the occasional note.

Steve's eyes hadn't moved off my face. He was probably contemplating various creative ways that he could kill me.

Trish unlocked the door leading to the cube and heaved it open as I passed through. 'That was really good - ' I murmured to her as she passed me. 'You definitely impressed them.'

'Well now you're going to smash me - ' She said with a smirk. 'Or you'd better. You work for the UN. You could be a security hazard.'

'Ha ha.' I muttered back, closing the door as Trish sat down. I looked over at Barton, Natasha and Steve who were quietly talking among themselves. I sighed.

'Whenever you're ready, Hamilton.' Natasha said and I nodded.

However, the second I opened my mouth the room was suddenly plunged into darkness. My heart skipped a beat.

Fuck.


	55. Vierundfünfzig

What the fuck was happening?

This was beginning to get awfully repetitive. And yet every time it happened, my paranoia and anxiety would double. This was more than just a maintenance fault now, wasn't it?

What was this, the 6th time the compound had been thrown into darkness? The 7th? That wasn't just a coincidence.

'Well this is great - ' I said sharply, my eyes furiously blinking to try and make out the shapes in front of me. I kept my feet firmly planted on the floor, reminding myself that nothing had changed just because the room had gone dark.

There was a limited amount of light in the room, mainly provided by the flashing computer screens, and it was enough that I could edge towards the glass cube. To my right, I could hear muffled voices and could faintly see the outline of Natasha, Steve and Barton all crowding around the door leading out into the corridor.

Great. The door was locked.

'Trish? You alright?' I asked, resting my forehead against the cool glass and trying to get my thoughts in order. We needed to get the lights working and find Fury to see what the hell was happening and -

Oh shit. I hated myself. I hated myself that I'd forgotten.

'Trish? Trish, you okay? I'm going to get you out of there - ' I promised, my voice cracking.

How had I possibly forgotten that Trish was claustrophobic? Maybe because it didn't affect her very often. Maybe because she'd learned to avoid small spaces where she was enclosed on all sides because she knew how she reacted when she did.

I listened for a moment. Harsh, strangled breaths. Quiet whimpering. 'Trish?' I repeated, my voice softer. 'Trish, I want you to focus on my voice, okay? I'm going to get you out of there.'

How exactly I was going to pick the lock when I could barely see anything was another thing completely, but failing was an option.

'Anyone have a clue what's happening?' I called out, sinking to my knees so that I was kneeling face to face with the lock on the door.

'No idea.' Steve said, his voice echoing from across the room. He sounded grim.

Let's focus on one thing at a time, eh? Firstly, getting Trish out.

'The comms aren't working.' Natasha said, as I carefully began to peel my hairclips out of my hair. 'It's just static.'

'Leave the comms, try and get that door open - ' I said firmly, lightly tapping on the surface of the glass. 'Trish? Trish, can you hear me?'

There was a moment of stillness, before I heard Trish's quiet, shaky voice: 'Rae?'

I almost collapsed with relief. 'Yeah, it's me. I'm getting you out of there, okay?' Trish let out a low moan and a stifled cry. I needed to hurry.

'The door?' I prompted the others as I reached for my boot to retrieve the rest of my hairclips.

'And what are you doing?' Natasha asked.

'Opening this door.' I said shortly.

'And why - '

'Because she's claustrophobic.' I said, feeling in front of me for the lock. I was hoping it was the fairly standard type of lock that I really could pick with my eyes closed. Because if it wasn't, then we would have a problem.

'You got everything under control?' Steve asked, his voice strained. Looking over my shoulder, I could see the outline of Steve by the door, his muscles tense. Something told me that the door wasn't going to be forced open.

'Yeah. And before you all bite her head off, she did mention that in her file.' I took my first clip, snapping the end off it and gently probed the lock. 'Trish, you still with me? I'm here, everything's okay.'

'Yeah.'

'This has been happening for a few weeks now.' Barton said and I rolled my eyes, taking another hair clip.

'You've just realised that? Aren't you supposed to be Hawkeye?' I said bluntly, taking in a deep breath. Being a sarcastic bitch probably wasn't my best option right now. 'Why's nothing been done about it?'

'No one's been able to figure out what the problem is.' Steve answered, as I held a clip within my teeth and grunted. The lock didn't look to be budging.

I was going to have to make it.

'What if someone's been messing with the systems?' I asked. 'Things like this don't just happen 7 times by accident.'

'That's what Fury's afraid of.' Natasha said after a moment and I raised an eyebrow. So Fury did have suspicions about what was happening. He'd just decided not to tell anyone outside of his immediate circle.

Suddenly, the room was bathed in a deep red glow, the red emergency lights flickering over my head. I let out a sigh, now able to see where my hands were going.

Trish was curled up in the corner, her knees pulled into her chest and she was breathing heavily. I swallowed the lump in my throat. This wasn't good.

All the doors were locked, the comms were down and Trish was stuck in the glass cube.

Fuck.

'Trish? It's alright, you're safe, I'm going to get you out.' I promised, taking a moment to wipe my hands on my leggings. The tips of my fingers were stinging but I couldn't stop. 'Keep breathing for me. In through your nose, out through your mouth.'

A wave of guilt hit me. I couldn't reach out and hold her hand and comfort her. It should have been me inside the box, not Trish.

When I found out who was responsible for fucking the systems up, they wouldn't be able to walk for a week. Whoever was responsible for freaking Trish out would not be walking the corridors of SHIELD for a very long time.

I heard Trish let out a sob and looked up to see her slowly rocking. The effort of trying to keep everything together was beginning to show. She let out another sob and my heart cracked.

'Trish? Trish, you're doing amazingly. I'm going to get you out, I just need another minute - '

'Rae...' Her voice was shaky and hoarse. I needed to keep her mind on something else. Otherwise, she was just going to shut down.

'Hey, how about we sing a song? Yeah?' The first thing that flew into my head was Stay Awake from Mary Poppins.

Whether that was because I'd watched the film last night or because I really was trying to get Trish to stay awake, I didn't know. But that was what I started singing, my voice quiet and soothing.

I tuned everything else out. Natasha, Barton and Steve probably thought that I was a crazy person right now but I didn't care. This was about calming Trish down, nothing else.

And as Trish quietly began singing along, I returned to the lock, taking out all the pins and trying again, now that I could see slightly more clearly.

To my right, I could see Barton and Steve furiously trying to open the glass door that led out into the corridor, with very little success. Natasha was stood behind the computer, her fingers frantically moving but her brows furrowed in a thin line.

'Any luck?' I asked, knowing the true answer.

'Nope' Natasha answered simply. 'You okay?'

'We're fine.' I said confidently, happy to see that Trish was looking a little calmer. But the door was still locked. I was going to have to work harder.

I held a handful of clips between my teeth as I slowly, one by one, angled them into the right position. The tips of my fingers were aching from fiddling around with tiny bits of metal. I grit my teeth. I was so close. So close. I just had to -

A dull thud echoed in my ears and I let out a long sigh of relief. Dragging myself to my feet, I heaved open the door and Trish basically collapsed in my arms, half-sobbing.

'You're okay, it's okay.' I repeated soothingly, rubbing her back as she breathed into my shoulder.

'Thank you - ' She stuttered, her voice trembling. 'Rae - '

'You don't have to thank me.' I said firmly. 'Come on and sit down, you need to get your energy back.'

'Rae - '

'It's okay, come on. The universe saw that you did such a good job interrogating me that it just had to disrupt the test.' I joked with a smile.

'Yeah right.' She said tiredly, a lazy smirk on her face.

Trish slumped onto the floor, leaning her back against the wall of the glass cube and rubbing her eyes with her hands. I let out a deep breath.

One problem dealt with. About a hundred left.

'This is serious now, isn't it. Fury can't just brush this under the carpet. Whatever this is, if it has the ability to send us into darkness then it has the ability to leak all of SHIELD's secrets out there for everyone to see.' I said, slowly turning around to face the others, their faces grave in the red light.

'Yeah.' Barton murmured grimly and I swallowed the lump in my throat. I wanted to get out of this room now.

'How can we get this door open, boys?' Natasha asked, her eyes still fixed on the computer room.

'That's we've spent the last 10 minutes trying to do. It's reinforced glass and the lock is electronically controlled. There's nothing - ' Barton started aggressively but Natasha cut him off, holding up her hand.

'There's always something you can do.' She muttered, more to herself than anybody else.

'You can't hack it, Nat - '

'I can try.'

'I've been searching the CCTV for anyone who looks to be messing with the systems and - '

'Have you found anything?' Steve asked, directly looking at me for the first time since the Prague episode. I quickly shook my head.

'I saw one guy but he was a maintenance worker. I presumed he was trying to fix them.' Steve was silent for a moment, his face pensive.

'You should still follow it up.' He said and I nodded, making a mental note to find the guy later.

'On it.'

As soon as the words left my mouth, the raucous sound of sirens echoed into the room, standing every hair on my body on edge.

'What do sirens mean?' Trish called, pulling herself to her feet and talking a step towards us. Natasha and Barton's faces were set tightly. I bit my lip.

'Nothing good.' I replied. 'We need to get out of here. Now.'  

\- Thanks for reading guys! Thoughts?


	56. Пятьдесят пять

What if something was happening outside of the doors? Something that we could prevent? Or even stop?

And we weren't doing anything. We were standing around like a group of lemons, debating what a alarm meant.

Obviously it didn't mean anything good. Duh.

'So you're saying that there's no way to open these doors?' I mused, crossing my arms and biting my lip in a way that I always did when I was thinking.

'They're electronically locked.' Barton said, giving the door a heavy slam with his shoulder. Nothing moved.

'And they're impossible to pick. Don't worry, we've tried - ' Natasha said with a slight roll of her eyes. 'You'll just end up electrocuting yourself.'

'There's always a way.' I murmured, my mind whirring with possibilities. This wasn't the first time I'd been stuck in a room with no apparent way out. 'And at least the doors are glass.'

'It's reinforced.' Steve repeated, frowning. 'You can't break it.'

'I might not be able to but if we all put our backs into it then we're bound to get somewhere.'

'Did you not hear him? It's reinforced - ' Natasha said sharply and I narrowed my eyes.

'We're currently surrounded by 2 master assassins, Captain America himself, a martial arts expert and a gymnast who pretty much holds all of her limited body weight in her thighs.' I said nonchalantly, thinking back to one of my first days of training. 'If you're telling me that we can't at least weaken that door, then I don't know what you're doing here.'

I turned back to face Trish, watching her as she approached me. 'Let's do this.' She agreed, giving me a nod.

'This will get us nowhere.' I heard Barton mutter under his breath and had to restrain from hitting him.

'Neither will that attitude. Do you want to spend the rest of the day stuck in here? Something could be happening - ' I pressed my right shoulder up against the glass, while Trish positioned herself in front of me and Steve stood behind me.

Even without looking over my shoulder, I could feel him towering over me, his chest brushing against my back slightly. I'd never been this close to him before. I sucked in a breath.

Now wasn't the time to be lusting after someone who thought I was a spy.

'On the count of 3?' Natasha prompted as she and Barton both positioned themselves against the glass and I nodded, swallowing thickly and feeling the anxiety building in my stomach. This had to work. The rest of my options weren't looking too successful and I really didn't want to have to crawl through a vent with Steve next to me.

'You ready?' Steve asked and I gripped every muscle in my body until it was as solid as a brick. His breath was tickling the back of my neck. 'This is going to hurt - '

'Not as much as the time as I broke both of my arms at the same time - ' I heard Trish murmur in front of me and I had to suppress a smirk at the memory. At the time, Trish falling out a tree had been the most terrifying thing I'd ever witnessed but looking back, it was rather amusing.

'Okay. 3 - 2 - 1!' I sucked in a breath, channeling all of my strength into my shoulder as I reared back and shot forwards, hitting the glass with a dull thud. Pain shot down the right side of my body and I gritted my teeth to stop myself from shouting out in pain.

Nothing happened for a moment before the whole frame of the door seemed to shift, catapulted backwards by our combined weight until it was basically hanging off its hinges.

I grinned, despite the pain that was written all over Trish's face. We'd done it.

'Right,' I breathed, gathering myself as Barton pushed the door back far enough for us to pass through.

The corridor outside was deserted, the lights still flashing red and the sirens echoing in every direction.

'Now what?' Trish asked, rubbing her shoulder.

'We find out what the hell is happening. And why communications are down.' I said.

'Someone needs to find Fury. Or Hill. Or somebody and - '

'I'm on it.' Steve said confidently, pausing for a moment before starting down the corridor. 'Stay safe.'

Steve had probably said this before every single mission that he'd ever been on. No, I definitely knew that he had. And yet I still felt a flush of warmth and strength as he disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

'And I'll see what's blocking the comms and try and get them back online.' Natasha said, shooting off in the other direction. Barton just stared after her for a moment.

'I guess I'm on hostile watch. Shoot to injure, not kill.' He said, sarcastically, more to himself than me and Trish before following Natasha.

The corridor was eerily silent without the presence of any of the others and I suddenly realized how I was totally unarmed. Unless I wanted to run up 3 flights of stairs to the armory and grab a gun (which was not in my immediate plans) then the only thing I had to defend myself with was my body.  
   
I'd dealt with less before.  
   
But I hadn't had my best friend with me before.

'And us?' Trish asked me and I racked my brains, thinking for the next logical solution.

'Maintenance rooms.' I said confidently. 'The only way someone could do some much damage is by messing with the systems directly.'

'Then lets go.' Trish said with a nod and, praying that this wouldn't turn into a fire-fight, we took off down the corridor in the same direction that Steve had left in minutes before.  
***  
Thankfully, I didn't come across any casualties as we moved over the compound. It was mainly very confused and nervous agents who had barricaded themselves into various rooms, as per Fury's orders when an unknown threat breached the compound.

I let out a deep breath, suddenly grateful that Trish had forced me on those runs with her. I never took the elevator in a time of crisis; I'd learned from colleagues of the dangers that this could bring. If everything else was going crazy, I guessed that the elevators weren't going to be very reliable.

'This is crazy.' Trish murmured and I had to agree.

'Hopefully, it's just like last time. A few flashing lights and some sirens but nothing actually happening.' I said.

'But?' Trish asked, noticing the pause in my voice as we rounded the corner to where the main maintenance room was located. I sighed.

'If someone has the ability to do this there's no reason why they couldn't hack directly into the systems and start downloading all the files and sharing SHIELD secrets.'

'And we don't want that.' That was the understatement of the year. There'd be global chaos if that happened.

'No we don't.'

The maintenance room was located on one of the lowest levels and as far as I could see, it was completely deserted. A thick silence hung in the air, making the echo of the sirens even more eerie.

I gulped, shooting a look at Trish and bringing a finger to my lips. Her brows furrowed.

'If someone's in there, we don't want to scare them away before we can get a look at them.' I whispered, my heart kicking up a notch at the prospect of actually coming face to face to the person or people responsible for causing this mayhem.

What were their motives? Why would somebody loyal to SHIELD possibly want to do this?

The answer was staring me in the face. They obviously weren't that loyal.

I crept towards the door that was open, my eyes squinting in the near-darkness. It was exactly as I'd seen on the CCTV - obviously - and consisted of rows and rows of buzzing, flashing pieces of machinery that I had no clue how to work.

It was basically a maze. A maze of monitors and control systems and wires and...things.

I shot Trish a look. She looked as overwhelmed as I did. At least that was promising.

I stepped further into the room, my eyes scanning for anything that looked wrong or out of place. I didn't know what I was looking for exactly. I just hoped that I'd know it when I saw it.

I moved forwards towards the second row of monitors when my eyes caught sight of something. A figure, crouching on the floor, their hands twisting some of the wires together.

My blood ran cold.

I needed to see who it was. I needed some sort of concrete evidence that this wasn't just a coincidence. That something real was going on here, that -

My foot creaked on a floorboard as I stepped forwards and my heart quickened as I shot backwards into the darkness, Trish's eyes on me. I winced at the noise, the creak sending a physical shiver down my spine.

Shit.

Did they know that someone was in here with them?

I held my breath, my eyes watching Trish as she braced herself next to me. What was going to -

The second the figure started running, I darted after them, shoving Trish in the opposite direction. They had an obvious advantage over us: neither me nor Trish had ever been in this room before.

But I couldn't let them get away.

I weaved through the rows of computers as the figure darted between them like a snake, their pace never once faltering. In the dim light, I couldn't get a good look of them. I tried to pick out some details: strong build, wearing dark clothes, tall, probably a male judging from the height and muscle tone.

But then again, most people looked tall to me anyway.

I had no idea where Trish was, whether she was running behind me or was on the complete other side of the room that seemed to stretch on for miles. I had no plan in my mind. My only thought was to keep running, that I couldn't let this guy out of my sight for as much as a moment.

What if he started fighting? What would I do them?

Neither of us were armed. I have to get close enough to use hand-to-hand combat. But with close proximity came a greater chance of getting hurt.

And he could be armed. I had no idea what was hiding under his dark, shapeless clothing.

I also knew that he was a fast runner. He suddenly ducked out of sight ahead of me and I shot forward, reaching down into the pit of my stomach for another burst of energy.

I caught sight of him as disappeared around the next corner and I grit my teeth, pushing forward again. I couldn't stop. If I stopped, then he would get away.

'Trish?' I shouted, my breath coming out in pants as I continued to run. 'Trish? Can you see him?'

'No.' She called back, her voice sounding reasonably close. Fuck. 'Wait, yeah!'

I followed the sound of Trish's voice, my pace brutally fast. I couldn't keep this speed up for much longer. I tried the comms again, the crackling sound proof enough that Natasha hadn't succeeded yet.

We were on our own. 'Trish?' I called again. Nothing. 'Trish?'

I skidded around the corner, dropping to the floor at the sight in front of me. Trish was lying on the floor, her legs splayed out behind her. Her eyes were closed.

I pressed my fingers to her throat. Her heartbeat was still strong. I could calm down a little. She had a large welt forming at her temple and a rush of anger flew through me.

He'd hit her. And pretty hard by the looks of things, either using his fists or something he'd had on him.

I looked up at the back door that had been flung open and the empty corridor that lay beyond it. The corridor was completely pitch black.

He'd completely disarmed the systems to cover his tracks. He'd probably disarmed the security cameras too, so that we couldn't follow his immediate steps.

I looked down at Trish, smoothing some of her hair out.

Fuck.

Fuck.

\- It's not going too well, is it?


	57. 五十六

bit my lip, scanning over the selection of chocolate bars in front of me. I needed a pick-me-up. And so did Trish. So I was resorting to calorie-filled bars of sugar from the vending machine.

Well, it had been a tough day.

Trish had been moved over to the med-bay and while she was still unconscious, she was in a stable condition - according to the doctors. But every second that she wasn't awake, my anxiety and anger grew.

I just wanted her to wake up.

After I found Trish on the floor, everything else had flown by in a blur: Natasha had got the comms working again, the lights had come back on and everything had gone back to normal.

But it hadn't, not really.

Agents were going around pretending that nothing had happened.

But it had. We couldn't ignore it. Not again, for what seemed like the billionth time.

I was going to have a much deeper look at the surveillance tonight on my shift. I'd already alerted Hill to the fact that somebody had been messing around in the maintenance room but I couldn't just rely on other agents, I was going to look for the information myself.

SHIELD resources were currently being spent on repairing the imminent damage that had been sustained - light bulbs that had blown and doors that had been broken. I was surprised I hadn't been given a telling off for smashing a door in but then I suppose it had really been a team effort.

If Trish hadn't been injured, I might have been one of the agents who were parading around as though nothing had happened but every time I tried to do that I was reminded that Trish was currently lying unconscious in a hospital bed with a massive welt on her forehead.

That wasn't something I could forget, or ignore, in a hurry.

Injecting 3 quarters into the vending machine, I reached in for the obscure chocolate bar that was Trish's longtime favorite. I wasn't really feeling any of the options. In fact, I was feeling a bit sick.

'Regan!' My head shot up to Steve slowly approaching me and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

'What?' I asked, my voice flat, not knowing what side Steve was coming from. He didn't look angry at me. But then, everyone around here was very good at masking their emotions.

'Are you going to see Trish?' He asked and I stood blinking at his words. No sharp comment? Just this strange request? I nodded.

'Yeah. Why?' His eyes were soft under the harsh lights of the corridor. He didn't seem angry with me. So why was he talking to me?

'I've just seen her. She's conscious.' My eyes suddenly widened and I instantly brushed past him, my mood instantly lifting. Trish was okay; she really was okay.

Steve briskly followed me as I made my way down the corridor. What was he doing? Was there something else he wanted to talk to me about?

'You did really well in your interrogation.' He said slowly and I turned to face him. 'So did Trish.'

'Is this really the time for that?' I asked, thinking that my interrogation was definitely not the thing of highest priority on my list right now. Although it was nice to be told that I'd done a good job at something. Even if that something was basically the Italian Mafia's informant.

'I'm just letting you know that the rest have been rescheduled for Monday so - '

'Great.' I said bluntly, cutting him off. Steve wasn't being vicious or cruel with me but I couldn't understand why he wanted to have this conversation right now when I had more important things to think about.

Because Trish was more important than anyone here, any day of the week. At least to me.

But then, I suppose this was the most civil conversation we'd had since the Prague episode. And I was being nothing but bitter. I stopped at the end of the corridor, my eyes gazing down to the med bay where Trish was.

Trish wouldn't want me to a be a bitter, ranging lunatic. Especially towards Captain America.

'Sorry.' I breathed after a moment, turning to look at Steve. 'I'm just - '

'It's okay.' Steve said, nodding. 'I understand.' I wasn't sure as to whether he actually did but I didn't push the matter.

I didn't say anything, the silence between us palpable. Was this our fresh page? Had he finally forgiven me for Prague?

'Thanks.' I said, not really sure what I was thanking him for in the first place but I needed to say it. I looked at him - really looked at him - ignoring just how handsome he was and how he was basically America's icon.

He smiled slightly in acknowledgement of my thanks and I noticed how his eyes crinkled slightly. I swallowed the lump in my throat, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

'She's lost some blood but it's not enough to be anything serious.' I continued, drawing the conversation back to Trish and glad to break the awkward silence that had been sitting between us.

'That's good.'

'I couldn't see his face. The guy, I couldn't - '

'We're going to trawl the security cameras. We'll find him.' Steve assured me and I sucked in a breath, nodding. 'I promise.'

Get a grip Rae. I needed to go and check on Trish and be there for her instead of fawning over Steve or whatever the hell this was that I was doing.

'I need to go to Trish.' I said and Steve nodded, slotting his hands into his pockets.

'And I've got to go and fix some doors.' He said jokingly and a smile involuntarily slipped onto my face. 'And replace some lightbulbs.'

'And give some rousing speeches to encourage the masses.' I teased, turning on my heel and making my way down the corridor, taking note of the chuckle that left Steve's lips.

What the hell had that been? It had started off as the most awkward conversation ever with me being an angry bitch and had finished with us joking with each other.

So what was our relationship now? Were we friends? Or still at each other's throats? Or somewhere in the middle?

Whatever. It didn't matter. He was a colleague and I had more important things to think about right now, which always seemed to be the case.

When would I ever have time to think about my feelings towards my colleagues?

I stopped myself in front of the window leading to Trish's room. She was sitting up in her bed, sipping some water with a bandage wrapped around her head. A smile bloomed on my face.

And what feelings? I felt nothing other than apathy.

Obviously...

I gently pushed open the door, a smile instantly growing on Trish's face as she saw me. Her room was fairly small, yet cosy, and the TV in the corner of the room was quietly playing Friends re-runs.

Trish was obsessed with Friends. Like, seriously obsessed.

'I brought you some chocolate.' I said after a moment, not really sure what to say. How do you feel felt a bit pointless, when it was obvious to see she was in some pain.

'Life saver - ' Trish murmured as I passed her the chocolate and sat down in the chair next to her bed. 'I feel like I've been it by a car.'

'Not a car.' I said with a slight smirk. 'But definitely something. It's not like you to simply face plant the floor.'

'The nurse said there's no permanent damage.' Trish continued, wincing slightly as she turned to face me. 'I've just got an awful headache and feel really dizzy.'

'That should pass in a few hours.' I said gently, hoping I sounded convincing. In reality, I had no idea how long Trish was going to feel like this.

'The nurses keep checking on me every other minute.' She said with a roll of her eyes. 'I'm fine.'

'They want to make sure you're okay. That's their job.'

'I was a witness to whoever was mucking the SHIELD systems up. Shouldn't they be questioning me or something?' Trish asked me, her hands toying with the sheets covering her.

'If they were I'd be ranting at them because that would be very unethical.' I joked. 'And maybe take it as a compliment. You were the single person who was deemed important enough to be knocked out.'

'Because I was in the way - ' Trish interjected and I shrugged.

'Who knows?' Trish smirked and met my eye for the first time.

'That makes me sound important, like the damsel in some cheesy Bond movie or something.'

'Exactly!' I exclaimed, giggling to myself. 'That's what SHIELD is! Complete with the fancy cars and the cocktails and the misogynistic pigs.'

'I'm living the dream.' Trish deadpanned and I snorted with laughter. It would take more than a knock on the head to bash Trish's spirit.

'I've been told that you did really well on your interrogation.' I said with a smile and Trish's brows furrowed slightly.

'Well, that's a lie - '

'Steve told me personally.' I said, his name sounding strange on my tongue. I didn't think I'd ever referred to him as Steve before. It was usually Cap or sexy fossil or some other variation. But it felt...weirdly nice. 'The others have been rescheduled.'

'He's talking to you?' Trish asked, her face shocked and I rolled my eyes. 'Has he realized his true feelings yet?'

'I'm starting to think that you bet something on us.' I responded and Trish smirked.

'I don't condone gambling. And I wouldn't do that - '

'He was off fixing doors and changing lightbulbs.' I continued and Trish suddenly grinned.

'So that's why you're here? Because you're too small to change the lightbulbs? Because ickle Rae can't reach?'

'Shut up, I brought you chocolate.' I said sarcastically with a smirk.

Silence sat between us for a moment as Trish slowly peeled back the chocolate wrapper. It wasn't an awkward, tentative silence like it had been between myself and Steve. It was normal and comfortable.

And I was going to go and ruin it.

'How long is it since you last had a panic attack?' I asked slowly, gingerly looking up at Trish. She didn't speak for a moment.

'About two years.' She said and I nodded. That was the last time I'd seen her have one. I'd been there to try and comfort her when she'd started screaming. 'Did Cap say anything about that?'

I shook my head. 'He can't say anything. It's nothing to do with him.'

'I put it on my application form so - '

'He can't do anything. There's nothing to do anyway. Just make sure you're okay.'

'I'm fine.'

Some problems could be openly shared and stated, like Trish's claustrophobia or Eve's gluten intolerance. Some problems weren't even considered problems because you knew how to handle them and didn't even given them a second thought.

But some problems stayed with you for years, glaring over your shoulder and never going away. Some problems lingered, never shifting, affecting your every day. Or they wouldn't show up for months, and you'd almost forget that they were there, until they returned to slap you in the face and reduce you to tears.

They were all problems. And I had to pick and choose which ones to face right now.


	58. Cinquenta E Sete

That night, my surveillance shift wasn't as settled as it normally was, despite it being a Friday night. Agents were swarming the base, the security having been upped again and I found myself getting easily distracted by simply gazing at agents as they walked down the corridors.

Once again, I was trawling through all of the security footage from the last few days, which was what I'd been doing every night this week that I'd been on my shift.

But now my work had a sense of urgency to it; no physical evidence had been found by anyone to explain what was happening. None of the computers or agents or security cameras seemed to have any idea as to what was happening.

I had to find something. Because I certainly hadn't imagined the man in the maintenance room and Trish certainly wasn't faking her injuries.

Someone had been doing something in that room and that was the most evidence we'd had so far as to what the hell was going on.

I wasn't about to lose his trail now. A man couldn't simply disappear into nothing.

It seemed as though Fury had also stopped pretending that everything was fine and that he couldn't keep everything hidden any more.

He'd called a meeting with the Security Council the second SHIELD's systems were back online and, as far as I knew, he was still talking to them now.

This had set everyone on edge and when I was helping Trish into the SHIELD car that was taking her home - she'd be given a few days of leave to recover from her injuries and I'd promised to go and see her first thing tomorrow - she'd said how she'd noticed some of the nurses looking panicked about something.

While I was glad that Fury seemed to be finally taking some proactive steps to stop whatever was happening, I didn't want to cause mass panic. That never did anybody any good.

Some part of my brain was telling me that I was partly responsible too. If I'd ran just a little bit faster, we wouldn't still be in this mess.

Despite my whole new mantra of not giving a shit, I'd been feeling pretty miserable since I'd waved Trish off. I'd had absolutely no control over my life in the last week, or that was what it had felt like at least.

And I hated the feeling. I had to be in control, otherwise I got nervous. Like now.

I had my coping mechanisms for this: alcohol, the gang and my dogs. And while I had no access to any of these at the moment, I was having to think of other methods.

Things that I could physically do that would mean I wouldn't be in this situation any more and I wouldn't feel like crap anymore.

What had got me into this mess in the first place? The answer was blunt and simple even if I hated to admit it.

Ross.

It was usually Ross.

Prague was the stem of my misery. The catalyst. The starting point.

I could talk to Ross. Demand to speak to him if one of his secretaries brushed me off. But what would that achieve? He was my boss. I had to listen to him, didn't I?

No, I didn't. That was what had gotten me into this mess in the first place, listening to people whose opinions I didn't care about or value.

Who I did value was myself and my thoughts and my values and I wasn't happy to go feeling like I had. I needed to make a change.

I knew who I was calling up first thing on Monday morning.  
   
***  
Half an hour later, I had still yet to find anything. I'd been replaying the footage from around the time Trish got attacked over and over again trying to catch a glimpse of the man running away from the maintenance room.

Nothing. It was like he'd just disappeared.

But seeing as this couldn't actually happen, I reckoned that he'd just been very clever and had somehow found a way to disarm the security cameras that would incriminate him.

So he was smart and sneaky and had something against SHIELD.

Brilliant. That was just what we needed.

I was taking a 5 minute break from my endless trawling of the corridors before my brain cells really did die from watching the same 30 seconds of footage over and over and over again.

I was surveying some of the other rooms, glad for a change of scenery for a moment. I stopped on the gym floors. I checked the clock. 10:39 PM.

Steve would normally still be working out at this time. I clicked onto the screen of his usual training room, finding it odd that I seemed to have memorized his schedule, and saw him, as I'd expected, repeatedly hitting a punching bag.

With force. A lot of force. I did not want to step between that guy and his lunch.

Steve stayed behind longer than I did most nights. I didn't know when he actually slept seeing as he never seemed to go home.

His motorbike was always in the parking lot when I arrived in the morning - why I knew it was Steve's I had no idea - and was still there when I left to go home.

A flash of curiousity shot through me as I rested my head on my hand and watched Steve working away in the gym. Why did he not want go home? He'd told me that he loved Brooklyn, so I presumed he loved his home too.

But what if there was something more than that? I knew that it couldn't be easy to be in the forefront of the media the whole time, especially when he'd never asked for it.

I'd been telling myself for weeks that everyone in the Avengers was a human and were different than their superhero personas, so why couldn't I accept that he couldn't feel the same doubts and worries that I did?

I blinked several times, my eyes beginning to sting from staring at the computer screens for a solid 2 hours with no breaks. My legs were beginning to seize up after sitting in the same position for so long. I needed a break.

And a snack.

I would go and search out a vending machine and replenish my blood sugar levels.

And if I happened to completely accidentally stumble upon the gym, then that couldn't be helped could it?

Steve needed to bugger off home before he forgot what his apartment looked like. And before I forced him to.  
   
***  
I scoffed down the rest of my chocolate bar as I wandered down the corridor, muffled grunts and the smack of fists against leather filling my ears.

Steve had been boxing like this every night this week. I didn't know whether he was on a new kind of fitness regime or something, not that he needed it, but he definitely seemed pent up about something.

I leaned against the door frame, folding my arms across my chest and watching him for a moment. His face was slick with sweat and I could see the ridges of his abs underneath his white t-shirt.

Okay. I was definitely behaving like a stalker. All the sugar must be going to my head.

What was wrong with me? Why was I so obsessed with him? I'd seen him half-naked loads of times.

Okay. Maybe twice. But still.

'Do you have something against leaving?' I asked, watching Steve whip around to face me. His face relaxed when he realised it was me and he ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in untidy clumps.

I swallowed hard. He looked really hot right now...

'Sorry - ' I stuttered, feeling myself blush slightly. 'I didn't mean to startle you - '

'It's alright.' He assured me, untying the strips of gauze that he'd wrapped around his knuckles.

'It's just...you never seem to leave. You're one of the first people here according to the employee login and you're still here when I leave after my shift. Is it too much caffeine keeping you up?' I teased, cocking my head to the side.

I swore Steve smiled slightly but I couldn't be sure under the harsh lights of the gym.

'Why don't you go home?' I murmured quietly, stepping forwards a little to drop my empty chocolate wrapper in the bin among the protein shakes and energy bars.

Steve didn't answer for a moment, his face pensive as I watched him move slowly across the gym, stretching out his muscles. He paused to look up at me, his face different from any way that he'd looked at me before. He looked...tired.

The same way Sam had when Tony had been hacking my files. As though their thoughts were just a little too heavy to be contained in their heads at the moment.

'I don't really know where that is any more.'

I froze, my words drying up in my throat. What did I say to that? How did I respond to his feelings that I didn't really understand?

By forcing myself to understand.

'What do you mean?' I asked softly, walking forwards slowly. I watched Steve shake his head and stare down at his boots. 'You have an address - ' I prompted and he chuckled grimly.

'Yeah, I do.' He said with a wry smile. 'An apartment in Brooklyn. But it's not home. It doesn't feel right.'

'And this gym does?' I said without thinking. I was beginning to understand how he was feeling, just how alone and alienated he felt in his own hometown.

Because it wasn't his hometown. His hometown was 70 years in the past.

'At least it gives me something do.' He answered simply, his eyes meeting mine and I nodded. I guess it did give him something to do. And someplace where he could wallow in his thoughts without being interrupted.

'If it was me, I would have gone for knitting before boxing.' I said with a grin, watching Steve flex his hands. He didn't need humour right now. He needed to know that he wasn't alone.

At least I could give him that.

'I think I get how you feel.' I said slowly, swallowing as Steve's eyes left the floor to rest on my face. 'Like you're the only person in the world who feels what you feel. And you know that it's stupid because you know deep down that you're not and you know that you're surrounded by people who care about you and that you can trust but for some reason you feel utterly alone. Like it's just you swimming in an endless ocean and you never seem to get anywhere. You're a few seconds away from drowning and you can feel the dread building in your stomach but there's nothing you can do to stop it.'

Steve's eyes were wide and honest; I couldn't look at him. I shuffled my feet on the floor, feeling the quiet beginning to suffocate me. My words weighed heavy in my mind. Did Steve recognize just how personal those words had been? How I barely spoke my true feelings to anybody?

I forced myself to look up and judging from the expression that he wore on his face, sincere and calm, he did. He really did.

'Who was that man that Coulson's team brought in?' He breathed and my eyes narrowed slightly. I hadn't expected him to ask about that but I had seen him in the corridor that day, even though at the time I thought my senses had been deceiving me.

I didn't think it would be Steve who would be the one to finally ask me. But it was.

I was hoping to meet up with Jemma at the weekend. I wanted a chat with her.

'A family friend.'

'He was wearing a combat uniform.' It wasn't a question, it was a statement. But it wasn't rhetorical. It was lingering in the air waiting for my response.

'How do you know that?' I asked, in slight disbelief.

'I walked past the window when they were covering his body.'

'Right.' I still hadn't answered the question. And I wanted to. Something inside of me wanted to be truthful for once.

Sam had told me a countless number of times the importance of talking about your feelings.

'He was in a special ops group.' I said slowly, gaging Steve's reaction with every word that left my lips. 'He was my dad's best friend.'

'He's in special ops too?' Steve asked, looking surprised at this information as I nodded.

I'd be silent about this for so long. Talking about things made them better, no matter the pain. It did.

Steve would be able to help.

'His team's been missing for 3 years, my dad included. John's the first of his team to come back.'

Steve didn't speak. I didn't know where to look. His eyes were too sincere. Speaking the words made them true. 3 years was a long time. The chance of them being alive diminished every day.

'Go home, Steve.' I murmured, turning on my heel and walking back towards the door before pausing for a moment and looking at him from over my shoulder. 'Go home.'


	59. Femtiåtte

Over the weekend, I spent the majority of my time dashing between three places: Trish's apartment to check up on her, my house to check on Stella who had thankfully almost made a full recovery and a café in town where me and Jemma met up on Saturday and Sunday for brunch.

I'd forgotten how much I missed her; I worried about her a lot, even though I knew her team were one of the best within SHIELD, because she travelled all over the world dealing with people who were unpredictable and volatile. And she was the only other person, aside from Trish, who could fully understand all the shit that was going on within SHIELD.

Mercifully, Trish had been deemed well-enough to return back to work and after a fairly easy morning run, we'd also hit the gym where Trish had talked me through some more difficult hand-to-hand maneuvers and we'd done a bit of shooting practice.

Then Trish had dashed off to another compulsory class on SHIELD rules and regulations and I got some lunch from the canteen and called Ross's number, greeted by the cheery tones of one of his secretaries. I wasn't going to leave my office until I'd spoken to him.

I had to sort out this mess. My loyalties weren't clear any more, least of all to me. I wanted to help people, all people, not be involved in some complex UN politics that I didn't sign up for and a power struggle that I didn't want to be a part of.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair on me, the people I was supposed to be helping and the people within SHIELD and the UN who I could wholeheartedly trust but who now hated me.

I was talking to Ross today. And it was going to be a very interesting conversation.  
   
***  
3 hours later and I was still waiting for Ross to answer my call. His secretary had repeatedly said that he was very busy this morning and was in a number of meetings which I called absolute bullshit seeing as I had texted Nim and she'd told me he'd been sat alone in his office all day.

He didn't want to talk to me. For whatever reason, whether he truly was busy or not, he didn't want to talk to me. He was avoiding me.

Why the hell was the head of the UN avoiding me? Because he knew that I wasn't very happy with the way I'd been treated?

Probably.

While I was on hold from Ross, I turned my attention back to the current shit-show that was SHIELD. I'd been thinking about Steve's words all weekend.

You should still follow it up.

Alrighty then.

Not only was I following up the one maintenance guy that I'd seen in the corridor, I was also tracking the movements of every maintenance repair worker that worked in SHIELD. These were the people who could have the skills and the opportunity to cause something like this.

Now I had a nice list of 61 SHIELD agents to work through. I quickly alphabetized the list, deciding to start from the top and work down.

I always felt better when things were alphabetized.

Something had to come from this. I had to find something. I wasn't going to let the person who'd hurt Trish get away with it and not be brought to justice. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did.

The first on my list was David Arnold. I did a quick search of the security cameras and his files and found that he was currently enjoying his lunch break in the canteen and was tucking into a spicy chicken burger.

I ran a hand through my hair and stood up from my desk, placing the phone down. I'd try Ross again later. I wasn't going to waste the entire day waiting for him.

If I needed to, I could just call Nim and ask her to force her way into his office and hand him the phone.

Right now, I had David Arnold to deal with. And I didn't think he was going to very happy about me interrupting him and his spicy chicken burger.

But he didn't have a choice.

I swiftly made my way over to the canteen, realizing how quickly I'd become fully accustomed to the SHIELD compound. It was surprising how quickly I could adjust to new surroundings - especially when I was being forced to run around the compound chasing a prick with a vendetta.

Standing in the doorway, I could see David sat on a table with some other agents. The canteen was relatively busy for half 2 in the afternoon, much to my disadvantage as there were now more people to see me embarrass myself.

Again.

Looking towards the Avengers' usual table, I spotted Wanda, Stark and Barton. The first thought that came into my head was that at least Steve wasn't here to see me make a fool of myself.

I immediately checked myself. Why did I care if Steve was here or not? I didn't care. Obviously. I didn't care one bit...

I definitely did a little bit. Where the hell had these feelings come from?

I didn't have time to dwell on them. I had a David Arnold to deal with and if I didn't act soon, he would have finished his spicy chicken burger and I would have talked myself out of it.

Clenching my fists, I quickly strode into the canteen and approached Arnold's table. He paused mid-forkful, his eyes trailing up to meet mine. Silence descended at his table.

'I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Agent Arnold.' I said, as approachable as I could. He raised an eyebrow.

'I'm eating at the moment.' He replied crisply. I could see that. I wasn't blind.

'Please.' I could see other table's beginning to pick up on my presence as their conversations died away. They did know they could carry on their conversations when I entered the room, didn't they?

I kept my gaze firm as Arnold stared up at me. After a moment, he pushed his hair away from the table and followed me out of the room. Agents stared at me as I left the room, Arnold following slowly behind me.

'Look, I just want to eat my lunch and go home to my kids - ' He protested as I halted in the corridor, some distance away from the doorway leading to the canteen.

I wasn't stupid. I knew that sound carried.

'I know. I won't take up much of your time.' His eyes were sharp as he looked down at me from his considerable height, his arms crossed across his chest in a defensive position.

He didn't feel comfortable being around me. The effects of the gala were still evident. Great.

'Could you explain to me what work you've been doing on the maintenance levels?' A look of confusion crossed his face.

'Checking for any faults, damage, nothing out of the ordinary. Agent Hill asked me to.' He explained.

'And why are you conducting these repairs at night? Surely you want to get back to your kids.' I said with a smile, watching the Arnold's eyes dance around my face.

'Sometimes I'm required to work the night shift.' He said stonily, his eyes narrowing. This wasn't really getting me anywhere. He was just being defensive. 'Why?'

'I'm following up on some leads.' I said quickly, noticing how suspicious this sounded as the words left my mouth. Oh well.

'What's that got to do with me?'

'This work that you've been doing? You haven't filed a report for it.'

'Because I didn't find anything!' He insisted, his voice getting louder. 'There were no faulty parts or anything that I could see. Then, I checked all the systems again because given everything that's been happening I thought I better be thorough.'

'You sure you didn't find anything?' I repeated. If there really was nothing wrong with SHIELD's systems, than why had everything been crazy. Things like that don't just happen by chance.

'Yes.' He said, exasperatedly. 'Why are you asking me all this?'

'I'm checking up on all the engineers. With everything that's been happening I'm trying to find out some answers I said.' 'And you were first on the list.'

'So you think I'm responsible?' Arnold scoffed, his lips turning up into a smirk.

Wait a minute. At absolutely no point had I said that he was responsible. Why had he stolen the words out of my mouth?

'I never said that.' I said firmly. 'I'm asking all of the engineers because I think that someone was messing with the machines and you have the most access - '

'So you do think I'm responsible.'

'No!' This guy was annoying me now. Couldn't he just let me finish what I was saying?

Apparently not.

'Forget this - ' He muttered under his breath, turning on his heel and stalking away from me.

'Wait!' I commanded him, hurrying after him but my smaller legs having to work twice as hard to keep up with his strides.

'I don't stay here for 2 years working my ass off to be accused of something by a midget like you!'

Midget? How rude. I blinked back at his words.

'I never accused you of anything!' I reminded him, my voice rising. I was fairly sure our words could now be heard in the canteen but this guy was pissing me off so much that I didn't really mind. 'You accused yourself!'

'Just fuck off and leave me alone!'

'Excuse me but - '

'And what exactly is going on here?' The smug voice of Tony stopped me and Arnold in my tracks. I wanted to punch Tony in his smug little face but Arnold looked slightly intimidated by Tony's presence.

Tony was one of the most senior agents in SHIELD, even if you wouldn't know it sometimes.

I glared back at Tony, watching his eyes trail over Arnold. He always had to catch me when I was at my weakest, didn't he?

'Nothing.' I said, quickly deciding that Arnold wasn't going to give me anything more, considering he now hated me. I could lose this battle. 'I was just leaving.'

I didn't need Tony saving me anyway. I could fight my own battles.

And I had a very long list of engineers to get through before the day was over. And, somehow, find the time to contact Ross.

It was going to be a fun afternoon.

\- Any thoughts?


	60. Kanalimakumamaiwa

Through the rest of the afternoon, I made my way through the rest of the list of mechanics and engineers but I'd found nothing. Every person that I'd talked to either hadn't been near any of the maintenance rooms in weeks or insisted that they'd simply been doing some checks.

And even though I hated to admit it, my encounter with Arnold had made me slightly afraid to push an agent for information. I didn't want to push them to the point where they would no longer talk to me.

As well as all this, I was still unable to get hold of Ross. It was beginning to piss me off. He couldn't just brush me off like this.

I wasn't going to give up. If I hadn't talked to him by the end of the week, I reasoned, then I was going to drive over to the UN HQ myself and demand to speak to him.

But for now, I needed to take a break before going back to the drawing board.

And a return to the drawing board meant a change in my soundtrack, so I switched my music over to Train. I always liked working with some music in the background.

I really was multitasking because while I was thinking of my next move in uncovering what was happening at SHIELD, I was also running through my mental list of SHIELD rules and protocol whilst sorting out some problems with agents via my emails.

I knew that I could be called upon at any moment to test my knowledge and I didn't want to be caught out. The last thing I needed among all this was to fail my evaluation.

That really would be the cherry on top of a pretty shit cake.

My computer pinged, signifying I had a new email, just as I finished replying to an agent concerning her maternity leave.

I read the name of the sender and my eyes immediately narrowed. It was from Fury's office.

What the fuck did he want now?

And it was now because the email said immediately.

I groaned in protest, pushing my chair away from my desk and storming out of my office. It seemed that whenever I sat down to get any work done, I was suddenly summoned by somebody.

Just because it said Fury's office, didn't mean that it was actually from Fury himself. It could be from anybody who had access to his office, which was basically every single high ranking agent.

All this combined was not making me feel particularly calm or reassured. What did they want?

It seemed as though the location of Fury's office had been permanently etched into my subconscious because I found my way there in no time at all, taking basically no effort to move my feet across the polished floor.

His office was becoming like my second home and that in itself was a little worrying.

I peered through the glass doors, my stomach bubbling with worry. Inside I could see the figures of Fury, Tony, Steve, Sam, Natasha and Barton.

Shit. That was definitely a combination of people you did not want in the same room. And I didn't want a repeat of the Prague episode.

I knocked on the door, holding my head up high. Fury gestured me inside, a neutral expression on his face.

I guess this was better than outright anger.

Natasha and Barton disappeared to a corner of the room, muttering among themselves. So whatever Fury had called me in for, it had nothing to do with them.

Good to know.

'Take a seat, Agent Hamilton.' I'd become slightly dubious whenever authority figures asked me to take a seat and my nerves weren't comforted by the neutral expressions that Tony, Sam and Steve were wearing.

Though, Sam and Steve did look to be having their own silent conversation as they were staring at each other very intently.

Either there was something going on between them or they were just as confused as I was.

'I've been hearing some stories, Agent Hamilton, that you've been going around accusing engineers of - '

'You really are incapable of keeping your mouth shut, aren't you? How you haven't been killed by a foreign mercenary I have no idea.' I shouted exasperatedly in Tony's direction, rolling my eyes at him and watching him shrug his shoulders.

I was going to strangle him one day.

'Yes, thank you Agent.' Fury continued, seeming to ignore my outburst. 'Can you explain yourself?'

I certainly could and my explanation began and ended with how Tony Stark was a massive dick.

Anywho...

'Whoever told you that information is obviously mistaken.' I said diplomatically. 'I've been doing nothing of the sort.' I glared at Tony out of the corner of my eye, watching him smirk slightly.

Did he get off with having me interrogated by Fury? Was it a game to him or something?

'No one seems to actively be doing anything about the fact someone or something is managing to disrupt SHIELD's machinery, so I've been asking a few questions to see if any of the engineers knew anything about it.'

'And did they?' Fury asked, ignoring my comment about no one doing anything about the problem.

'No.' I said, slightly bitterly. That was an afternoon wasted.

Fury nodded, looking off into the distance as though he was thinking about something. I raised an eyebrow. Was that all the telling off that I was going to get? Could I leave now?

'The people that you questioned hardly seem like evil genius' with the motive to do any of this.' Tony interrupted and I scowled at his words. 'They're family people who've worked at SHIELD their whole lives and have no criminal records.'

Someone had done his research, hadn't he?

'I was asking those who would have the easiest access to the machinery and I figured that that would be the mechanics and engineers.'

'And was that really your call to make?' Fury asked and I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes.

'No one else seems to be doing much about it - ' I started but Fury cut me off.

'That's because agents have other priorities that they're dealing with. They have missions - '

'Oh yes, swanning off to a conference in Fiji is such hard work.' I smirked, thinking back to the email that had been sent out in the early hours of the morning to explain that a number of SHIELD agents had gone off to Fiji.

'Agent Wilson has been following up on a series of missing persons - ' I shot a look at Sam who looked up at the mention of his name. He looked pretty glum and had what I presumed was the beginning of a black eye.

'And judging from his expression and his black eye, they aren't exactly going to plan.' Sam shrugged his shoulders and I felt a stab of sympathy. 'Sorry...' I murmured and Sam nodded, smiling slightly.

Fury cleared his throat, as if he was reminding me that he was there. I knew he was there. He just wasn't doing a particularly good job of keeping my attention.

'You need to remember that you're not the only employee here, Agent Hamilton, and that your actions have consequences.'

'I'm aware of that.' I said. 'But if these hackers, or whoever they are, have the ability to mess with lights then they are in the system and they could go spreading info on missions and SHIELD employees which is something no one wants.'

'You missed a surveillance shift the other day - ' Tony continued and I rolled my eyes. My patience with him really was wearing thin.

'Why do you even care about that? And how the fuck do you know?'

'I checked.' He said nonchalantly.

'So now I'm being checked up on, great.' I murmured under my breath. 'And for the record, I was given the night off.'

'Why?'

'Because I was at a funeral and I didn't want to resemble the person being buried!' I shouted, my voice rising.  
   
'Did this have anything to do with the package Coulson delivered to the med-bay?' Tony asked and I sucked in a breath. I really did want to punch him.  
   
'Yes. That 'package' was an old family friend who I hadn't seen for a long time.' These words still sounded fake, as though someone had made everything that had happened that day up. But no. It really had happened.

'Well, I - ' Tony started but was cut off by Steve.

'Stop it Tony.' Tony raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes in Steve's direction but said nothing more.

I thought back to our conversation in the gym the other night and it was clear that even though Steve hadn't spoken to me about that night since, he'd understood. He understood what I was going through.

'I'm allowed time off.' I said and Fury met my gaze for a moment before nodding. 'And I know that you don't like me and I that I fucked up in Prague and that I got caught out because I was trying to help everyone but that was my call. That's who I am. I'm not here to be liked, I'm here to do my job but it's quite hard to do when no one will come within 5 feet of me.' I said slowly, choosing my words carefully.

'And it's now going round that you're swanning around SHIELD accusing people and they might loose their jobs.' Fury said, shooting a narrow look at Tony.

'Which is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.' I said, glaring over in Tony's direction. He rolled his eyes and held his hands up.

'You're the one who was yelling in the canteen, alright?' I let out a sigh. I knew it had been Tony but it was nice to hear him say it.

'That'll be all, Hamilton, now that's been...clarified.'

'Thank you, sir - ' I said, standing up from my chair and taking in another deep breath. I might be ready to punch Tony but that didn't mean I was going to do it. He might be dick and an arrogant asshole but his heart was in the right place.

I suppose. I still wanted to knock him out but oh well...


	61. Sixty

That evening, I was back on my surveillance shift and was forcing my body to keep working by keeping it hydrated with vast amounts of caffeine. I had no idea why I was so tired. The day must have had a bigger impact on me than I'd thought it had.

I'd spent my remaining few light hours within SHIELD finishing off my work, helping myself to my own spicy chicken burger and continuing to try and talk to Ross.

I'd had no success. I'd have to try again tomorrow.

I was also becoming increasingly aware that my evaluation was creeping up on me faster than I could comprehend. I still wasn't fully aware of what was going to be asked of me but I did know that I was going to have to be on top form. And worrying about a team of hackers potentially destroying the world as I knew it was definitely keeping me from practicing.

That afternoon I'd received an e-mail, along with the rest of my recruit class, explaining how the last week of my training was going to go. Tomorrow, I was going to have a private interview with Steve, Natasha and Barton. The prospect alone filled me with a small sense of dread. I had no idea what this talk was going to consist of.

I then had a training exercise on Thursday morning on which I was going to be marked on and the results of that would go forward to my final evaluation which would take place in the afternoon.

Thursday was the big day. The main event. All the recruits would demonstrate the two skills that they'd been practicing and would hand in their physical development skill tapes as well as completing a 'mission.'

What this mission involved I didn't know but I was feeling panicked about this too. I hadn't seen the majority of the recruits for days and for all I knew they could have transformed themselves into killing machines. I had a feeling that we would be tested on our skills by using them against our fellow recruits and I didn't want to think about what would happen if I had to fight one of the bigger agents.

I might be fast and strong but they were double my size. And most of them hated my guts, if rumours were to be believed, and I knew that they wouldn't treat me kindly.

I'd also had an interesting conversation with Sam when we'd both been stood in line in the canteen. I felt slightly guilty about how I'd been treating him lately, as though he was responsible for all my problems within SHIELD, and had been trying to cheer him up and make him smile.

It hadn't really worked. The day seemed to have taken its toll on him as well.

He explained to me how his latest mission, some drug lord hiding off in Harlem, hadn't exactly gone according to plan - hence the black eye.

I'd told him that he shouldn't get downhearted about it and that there was absolutely no way the guy was going to get away from him. He'd seemed to perk up a little at this but I could tell it was still weighing on his mind.

I was focusing more on the fact that we'd had an actual genuine conversation for the first time in what seemed like ages. I had been worried when I first started, that as we were both working in the same place our relationship would deteriorate

And while my relationship with other people within SHIELD had shifted and altered over the last few weeks, I knew that my relationship with Sam never had. Even when everyone else hated me, I knew that I could at least depend on Sam, even if he didn't understand my actions.

Because he understood at least some of my past. And knew how I always had to try to help the largest amount of people. How that was something that was ingrained in my nature now.

The day had also made me stop and think for a moment because while I had been ranting at Fury for not doing more to investigate into what had been going on, I knew that their world couldn't stop turning over this little kink in the road.

There were still missions to complete, people to speak to, problems to solve that were much bigger than some flickering lights. I knew that people like Steve and Tony had much more important and worthwhile things to be doing with their time.

And that was why I had to do something. Because I did have time, even if it was late at night when I should have really been sleeping and resting.

I'd been going over the limited information that I'd been able to gather from the mechanics, as well as going over the continuous loops of CCTV footage that I felt sure were permanently engraved on my skull.

The agents had noticed no faults with the main system, no broken parts or missing gears. That ruled out someone simply trashing the machines for the fun of it. They were clever then, by manipulating them in a way that even the engineers couldn't spot.

I turned my attentions over to the CCTV, staring at the grainy image of the corridor that led down to the maintenance room and the one that led away from it that was currently pitch black.

The CCTV didn't capture every single possible angle of the corridor and so there was a tiny possibility that the person I was looking for had simply sneaked past.

That was practically impossible, though. I quickly ruled out this possibility.

The corridor leading away from the maintenance room was basically a dead end; it worked in a continuous loop so leaving via the back door would only lead you back to front entrance again, where they would be picked up on the cameras.

And this gave me another line of enquiry to address: how had they got in the room?

But what if they hadn't got in the room?

What if they hadn't hacked the systems from that room but somewhere else? Could they hack straight into the system from any normal computer? Did it have to be within the SHIELD compound or not?

I made a quick note, reminding myself to talk to the IT agents in the morning as to whether this would be actually possible. Because if it was, I had been running around in circles this whole time by searching the corridor the whole time when they'd never actually been there.

But I definitely hadn't imagined the person in there, and Trish certainly hadn't fabricated her injuries. Someone had been in that room and then somehow vanished.

What was that person's motive? Were they at all connected to the flickering lights? Or were they concerned with something else?

Tony hadn't created any murder bots recently so I could safely assume that the perpetrator was human? But what if they weren't wholly human? What if I was dealing with a powered person who possessed special abilities? That would certainly address how they'd managed to disappear into nothingness.

But then why did they kill the lights? Did they intend to do that?

The questions swam around in my brain until I had the beginnings of a migraine, although I couldn't be totally sure whether that was because of the caffeine or the stress that I was putting myself under.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a second and leaning back in my chair.

I'd refrained from singing during my shift so far, mainly because I'd been concentrating so heavily on my own thoughts. But also because I'd seen Steve in the gym, yet again, and something in my brain had killed the words in my throat.

The gym was his own kind of haven, a place that felt more like home than his apartment in Brooklyn did. And I couldn't really take that away from him, could I?

I cast an eye over the cameras that watched over the gyms that I'd been dutifully avoiding all night that partially shocked me.

Steve was actually packing up. He was unwrapping the gauze from his hands, tucking them into his bag and shrugging on his jacket. I didn't react for a moment. He wandered towards the exit, halting for a moment before waving up towards the camera, a small smile on his face, before he moved out of sight of the camera.

I felt a spur of warmth shoot through me. I could feel myself heating up slightly which was ridiculous. He'd waved at me. That was nothing new.

But it was the fact that he knew where I was, that he knew I'd be looking over the cameras and that I'd probably be watching through the cameras.

Wait...That sounded weird the more I thought about it...He knew I'd be stalking him...

A knock on the door dragged me out of my thoughts and I turned towards the door to Steve peering around the corner, the same gentle smile on his face.

I involuntarily blushed again. What was wrong with me? He was a co-worker and technically, in some ways, my boss. I needed to get a grip.

'Fancy seeing you here - ' I joked awkwardly, trying to dissolve the flutters that I was feeling in my stomach. Why did I feel so flustered?

Steve chuckled. 'Sorry if I startled you or - '

'No! No, it's fine - ' I fumbled for my words slightly. 'It breaks up the monotony.' I eyed up the camera screens next to me, trying to at least look like I had been working and not dozing for the last half an hour.

He was a higher ranking agent than me, after all. Even if that had never stopped me from behaving like a grouchy teen in the past.

'I know what it can be like on surveillance. After a while it can get really boring.' My eyes nearly popped out. Steve Rogers, class pet and all round star student, found surveillance as boring as I did? My life was now complete.

'The only thing I have for company is the pyscho fox that's been running around the place.' I continued with a smile, as Steve leaned casually against the doorframe. My eyes were drawn to the muscles in his arms, the way they bulged slightly through the fabric of his shirt, the - 

I needed to get out of this room. I had been breathing in the stale air for too long.

'So that's what's been trashing the grounds?' Steve mused with a smirk. He paused for a moment. 'No singing tonight?'

I did a double take. What? Had he just said that? How did I respond?

'I really should have been charging you, you know.' I said sarcastically. 'I've basically been giving you a free concert.'

'It's actually very motivating.' He said, meeting my eyes and I paused for a moment, the direct eye contact halting my speech. Did he mean music in general? Or my music?

'I bet it is.' I muttered sarcastically, clicking off the cameras showing the gyms and back onto the corridor that seemed to have consumed my every waking moment.

'No, it really is - ' He added hastily, the urgency in his voice tearing me away from the screens. 'Please don't stop on my account.'

I nodded, the gravity of what he was saying beginning to sink into my skin. He'd never openly said that he liked my singing before, not that I'd ever particularly cared,

'Well I'm on my way out.' He continued, scratching the back of his head.

'Night.'

'Night.' He said this but made no attempt to open the door. I waited a moment, every second he stayed in the room with me seemed to increase the fluttering in my stomach. Did he want a song? Was that it? At the moment, my throat was so dry I didn't think I'd be able to get a single note out.

'I agree with what you said before.' What did he mean? I'd said so many things that people had disagreed with lately that it was hard to keep track of them all? 'That we need to be trying to solve problems instead of just brushing it under the carpet and continuing on as normal. And I know that you've got a lot on your plate - '

I realized that this was one of the things that I'd been missing. I'd been missing another person's opinion that my actions were valid. Because, other than Trish, everyone had been criticizing what I'd been doing and I knew that if it had continued like this, I would have reached the point where I would start criticizing myself.

And that was somewhere that I never wanted to get back to.

'And now I have to worry about this talk tomorrow.' I said, realizing that I'd been sat in silence for several seconds and Steve probably thought I'd either dozed off or had gone into a trance.

I had, in a way. His arm muscles were doing things to me.

Steve smirked. 'You're going to be absolutely fine.'

'Any hints?' He rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the door frame and reaching for the handle. Of course he had other plans than to just talk to me all night.

'That would be telling.' He joked. The rare times that I got to see his sense of humour, the rare times when the situation wasn't wholly focused on saving the world or some global disaster, were the times that I was reminded what SHIELD was supposed to be.

A family, in some ways. Of lovely, kind-hearted people who wanted to do something.

'I thought you liked me.' I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them and evaluate whether I really wanted to say this, considering the feelings that were swirling around in my head towards his arms.

But I did.

'I do.' He said, so softly that I almost had to ask him to repeat his words.

He liked me.

Of course he did, I was awesome.

He was just being nice. He'd say that to anyone.

He liked me.

By the time I looked up again, Steve had disappeared. I'd been so absorbed in those 3 words that I hadn't seen him leave. My stomach was still fluttering. I was flushed.

Get a grip, Rae.

\- Things look to be progressing for Rae!


	62. Soixante Et Un

The next morning was fairly uneventful as I continued to try and speak to Ross while cramming in some shooting and combat practice before my final evaluation. My nerves were building steadily and despite Steve's words last night, I was still feeling anxious about our 'talk'.

Trish had bullied me into taking a break from my work and having a proper lunch break, which explained why I was currently sat in the canteen nursing my plate of cottage pie.

The only problem was, I was the only person sat at the table. Trish was stuck in traffic which left me looking like a friendless loser and more of a moron than I already was.

Between forkfuls, I was desperately texting Trish to see how far away she was from the compound and cursing every moment that I was sat in the deafeningly loud canteen that stank of cooking fat and sweat on my own.

It also didn't help that my usual table at the edge of the hall had been taken so I had been forced to take a table closer to the center where agents could stare at me from all sides. I fidgeted in my seat as I checked my phone to see whether Trish has replied to me.

She hadn't. I knew she wouldn't have. She was driving, after all. But this didn't reassure me to any extent.

Instead, I had only my own thoughts to occupy me and they weren't really much cheerier. I'd made no headway into figuring out who was responsible for the shit show. I couldn't speak to Ross. My evaluation was in 3 days. I had a 'talk' this afternoon which was freaking me out.

I sighed, forcing myself to take a breath and a gulp of water. I hated being in my own head sometimes. I ended up stressing myself out more, simply because I didn't have anybody else to tell me how much of an idiot I was being.

But I was too far into this mess to back out now. I was already six feet under; I couldn't go back now. Practically everybody within SHIELD thought I was a traitor, I might as well continue pushing forwards.

I'd been firing people all morning if the gossip was to be believed; this meant that most agents were avoiding me like the plague.

At least this allowed me to get some work done.

But it really was go big or go home right now.

This was not what I thought would be happening to me when I went to work for SHIELD. I had never thought I'd become to subject of a metaphorical witch hunt. I never thought Ross would be able to use my multiple loyalties against me.

One thing I did like, though, was being my own boss. I did, technically, report to Fury and Hill but they weren't checking up on me every other second.

Or at least they weren't supposed to.

I had a lot more freedom and therefore more responsibility now and I loved the work that I got to complete: helping SHIELD agents with problems, using my language skills to build bridges between people and nations.

It was rewarding, when it didn't feel like I was being punished and criticized for something.

I just needed to speak to Ross. That would bring some answers to the questions that were floating around in my head. But I didn't stay in 1 place long enough to wait for the crackle on the other end of the line and for Ross to start talking.

I felt sure that he was avoiding me but this could have easily been the paranoia that was a constant fixture in my brain now.

Swallowing another forkful and looking towards the door in the hopes of seeing Trish, I figured that I could always try calling him during my surveillance shift.

I was in that box for hours on end. Ross couldn't escape me there.

I didn't know exactly how long Fury was going to keep me on surveillance duty, as long as he felt it took for me to be 'sorry for my actions' I reasoned, but it had brought some unexpected benefits. It allowed me to work through some things while the compound was quiet and gave me access to the all the cameras on the compound.

I sighed as I heard a group of agents behind me start chuckling. I knew they probably weren't laughing about me, I'd heard them talking about some soccer game just minutes before, but their laughter still put me on edge.

Where the hell was Trish? Surely their couldn't be that much traffic?

Another burst of laughter to my left caused me to look at my plate and stir the peas, the anxiety taking over the hunger in my stomach. I was fine.

I was working for SHIELD's best interests. I was fine. I didn't need anyone else's approval or support. I was strong and independent. I was fine.

Trying to find something else to focus my attention on, my eyes darted towards the far corner where, as I knew they would, the Avengers were sat around their usual table.

Agents deliberately left that table because they knew it was the Avengers spot. My usual table had been pinched. But then I wasn't an Avenger or a millionaire or a super spy.

It really was like junior high. They were the popular kids. And I was the nerdy loner.

But, unlike junior high, the popular kids weren't all carbon copies of each other. They were all totally different with their own personalities and beliefs and, of course, skill sets. And they still managed to get on - most of the time.

It was like me and the gang. We all had completely contrasting personalities and backgrounds and yet they felt like my family. They were my best friends in the whole world and I wouldn't change anything about any of them.

To my right, a packet of chips burst open and yanked me out of my thoughts. I realised I'd been staring at their table, my eyes unblinking for several moments. I blushed slightly, aware that no one but myself had noticed it and quickly swallowed a forkful of peas, thankful for something to do.

I really wished that Trish was here.

I looked up again, my eyes reaching the same spot to suddenly catch Steve's eye as he looked around the room.

I quickly looked away, searching for the clock on the opposite wall. Why did I always manage to find him in the crowd?

If I was brutally honest, the only saving grace about my surveillance shifts, aside from the work I got done, were my interactions with Steve.

It was nice knowing that someone was aware of my presence because being in that little black box made me feel cut off from the rest of the world sometimes. I wasn't totally alone.

But, our conversation last night had definitely out of the ordinary. I'd never expected him to come and actually talk to me.

And make me feel things. I was now 100% more attracted to him than I had been when I'd first met him and I hadn't thought this was actually possible.

He seemed to have forgotten, or just forgiven, our pasts and had decided that I wasn't actually the personification of the devil. And to know that Steve, literally the most highly commended and nicest human on the planet if Phil was to be believed, thought I was an okay person boosted me up in ways I hadn't thought were possible either.

My phone buzzed on the table. I'd been so deep in my thoughts about Steve - that wasn't creepy at all was it, that I'd just randomly been thinking about him - that I'd at least partially forgotten my anxiety.

It was Trish. She would be about 10 minutes because one of the roads was closed off as there'd been an accident and she would have to take the long way.

Why did the world hate me so much? Why couldn't Trish have a quick journey?

And on the subject of everything that made my life kind of crappy, why did everyone have to hate me? Why did Ross have to be such a dick? Why did Steve have to be so handsome? Why -

A shadow suddenly appeared over me and I shot up to see Barton standing next to me with his empty tray, something resembling a smirk on his face.

'Can I help you?' I asked, wondering what he'd been talking about to make him smirk. Why was I so bothered? Get a grip, Rae.

'Your talk's in 10 minutes.' He said, before taking his tray back towards the serving hatch.

I'd almost forgotten about that, in all my thoughts and feelings. What were they going to ask me? Why did this feel so much like a job interview when I'd already gotten the job?

All I knew was that I was going to have to get my thoughts under control if I was going to get through the next hour without making a fool of myself. I needed to be professional and confident and collected.

I was going to show Barton and Natasha just how good an agent I was. And how badass I was.

And Steve. Shit... I was going to get distracted by his arms, wasn't I?

\- Giving you a different insight into Rae's typically confident demeanor. Thoughts?


	63. Sesenta Y Dos

10 minutes later, I was fitfully waiting in a corridor that I hadn't been in before. Compared to the rooms used for the interrogations, it was decorated much more comfortably with soft furnishings and an decadent fluffy rug on the floor. I really wanted to bury my face into it. That way I wouldn't have to do this stupid talk.

I reasoned that this part of the compound was used for housing important guests and holding meetings. Why was this talk not taking place in the usual sterile interrogation room? What atmosphere where they trying to create here?

I was going to do it, though. If Steve thought I could do it, then it couldn't possibly be that bad could it?

That all depended on just what Steve thought about me though. He might have grossly overestimated my mental state and this talk could leave me a sobbing wreck.

Get a grip, Rae. They only wanted to talk. They were doing this with every new recruit and had done it with every agent who was currently involved in SHIELD. None of them had broken down in tears.

I suddenly looked up at the arrival of footsteps to see Barton, Natasha and Steve enter the corridor. They were all clutching pens and a pad of paper, their faces neutral but friendly. Steve gestured to the door that was directly in front of me.

'Take a seat.' He said warmly, and I immediately became dubious as I pushed open the door and felt a flush of warmth hit my face.

It was a nice room. A really nice room, with paintings coating the walls and the floor carpeted in a soft cream and two mauve sofas facing each other. The heat in the room was almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the bitter chill of the interrogation room. Why was the temperature so different in this part of the compound? Why did this room have to be warmer?

What were they trying to do to me?

Nothing Rae. Get a grip.

My eyes started to search for any hidden traps or threats as my legs walked over to the closest of the sofas. The warmth was trying to lull me into a false sense of security, I could feel it in my bones. It was second nature for me now to try and sniff out any danger before I allowed myself to relax even a little.

And even Steve's arms couldn't distract me from that.

I wished that it wasn't. I wished that my brain wasn't hotwired like this. It was exhausting sometimes.

'We're just going to ask you some questions.' Barton said nonchalantly, seeming to ignore the way that my eyes darted around the room but I knew that they all spotted it. 'Try and get a feel for what kind of person you are.'

They'd got a feel as to what kind of person I was after staying in my house with me for a week. But I didn't say this.

'To see whether you're the kind of person Fury wants in SHIELD. What your background is.' Natasha continued and my eyes froze on her face.

So this was basically a test. A test that I had already half failed by throwing a hissy fit when Tony had tried to hack my files. I was already at a disadvantage. Everyone distrusted me already. They didn't need to talk to me to find that out.

'Is that alright?' Steve asked, slightly nervously and I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. I pursed my lips instead. They already knew some things about me from living with me and I knew they weren't oblivious to the rumours that flew around the compound. They probably knew more than they thought they did.

I nodded. I needed to do well at this. 'Sure.' I said, making my voice sound as confident as I possibly could and forcing a small smile onto my face as I leaned back against the soft cushions, positioning my hands on my knees.

I was going to show them that I was cool and collected and was here to do my job and was good at it. I wasn't paranoid to the point of it being a problem. I didn't have a hazy past. I was fine.

'I'm just going to relay some basic information first and I want to check that we've got everything right.' Steve said, seeming to take the lead in the conversation. Was it because he was the friendliest? Or because they all knew of my relationship with Steve and figured he would be the one I'd talk to most easily.

I was being too paranoid. I nodded.

Steve relayed back to me my name, age, gender, height, ethnicity and birth place. I confirmed everything that he told me because of course this information would be correct. It was information that I had submitted myself when I'd first joined SHIELD.

'What about your childhood? What was that like?' Barton asked, looking up from the pad of paper that he'd yet to write a single word on. I'd been watching him. My brows furrowed slightly. 'What was school like?'

'Normal.' I said immediately.

'What's normal?'

'Normal. I was average, had a couple of friends.' The early years of my education weren't really much to focus on - the only prominent thing that had happened was that I'd been taught to read and write.

'Are you still in touch with any of those friends?' Natasha asked. I shook my head. Those correspondents had died off a long time ago.

'How do you know Agent Manning?' I couldn't really see what relevance this had to my ability as a SHIELD agent. I was surprised they were even bothering to ask me about my friends. This really was a 'talk', wasn't it?

'We met at college.' I said, shooting Steve a sly look. He already knew that although he didn't show it. 'That's where I met everyone.'

'Hunter College?' I nodded. 'What did you do after that?'

'I spent a couple of months travelling before joining the YPP at the UN. I've been working there ever since.' Natasha scribbled something down on the pad in front of her and my stomach clenched. What had I said? What had I spilled to her that I shouldn't have?

'What made you pick the UN?' Barton asked me, after a moment, the heat suddenly affecting me more than it had a minute ago. My skin felt uncomfortably warm and flushed, like it was going to melt off my bones. I took a breath, this action not going un-noticed by Steve, Natasha and Barton.

'My parents are both involved with politics and the military so I guess it was inevitable.' I said, shifting my legs. I prayed they wouldn't ask me to continue on this tangent. I didn't really want to go into my parents...

Why was the heat affecting me so badly? Why was I practically sweating?

'We're going to ask you some more random questions now.' Barton said, after a moment. 'And try not to take any of them personally.'

What the fuck did that mean? What were they going to ask me?

I wanted to get out of this room and the stifling heat that I could feel building on top of my skin as though the sun was glaring down on me. I felt sure that the others had noticed my discomfort by now. I was practically dripping with sweat.

I nodded. Get a grip, Rae. Get a fucking grip.

'Have you ever been pregnant?' My eyebrows shot up and my eyes grew wide. What kind of a question was that? That had to be a breach of some privacy laws or something. I couldn't quite remember and put it down to the heat of the room that was manipulating my brain.

I stared back at them, there gazes unblinking. 'I don't have to answer that.' I said. 'You don't have the right to ask me that.'

'Elaborate.' Natasha said simply.

'No.' I replied sharply, suddenly adjusting my posture and sitting up rigidly. 'That has nothing to do with my status as an agent.' Were they aware of the affect that question had had on me? Was that they asked it? Steve didn't look particularly outraged and I had to think that some part of him would be slightly uncomfortable with them asking me that, which meant he must have known about it before hand.

'Have you ever killed anybody?' They certainly weren't balking on the personal questions. I felt my skin tighten. They knew what they were doing to me.

'Yes.' I said finally. 'A handful of militant rebels who deserved to be shot.' I didn't elaborate on this, though their eyes were practically begging me too. I was giving them enough of my soul without having to explain everything in detail.

If they were surprised, they didn't show it. Did they think I had killed someone? Or had I opened their eyes to who I really was? I didn't know which option I wanted it to be.

'Fears?' Steve asked, piping up. I ran my hand across the fabric of my skirt, trying to wipe the sweat off. How the others weren't being affected by the heat was something that I couldn't possibly understand. I swallowed harshly, trying to get my mind to form coherent sentences.

'Big spaces that I can lost in.'

'For example?' Barton shot back. They couldn't leave anything, could they?

'Deserts.' I said immediately. 'I can't stand them.' I focused my eyes on Steve's arms as he crossed them over his chest, the way the light fell on his hair, the brightness of his eyes that had made many a list in a gossip column.

I needed something to ground myself. Or I was going to get swept away by the heat of the room and I didn't know if I'd be able to drag myself back.

My thoughts were already drifting away back into the past, back to days where I had been plagued by bad dreams and disturbing thoughts and when I genuinely thought that I was going to survive through the day. I couldn't allow my head to go there.

I was already failing this talk, with my poor SHIELD record and the overwhelming heat. If I let this heat beat me then I was as good as out the door.

'Why are you still in this process?' Natasha asked me and I raised my eyebrow. Yeah, why was I?

But I knew why I was.

'I want to help people.' I said simply.

'Then stay in the UN.'

'I want to actively be doing something to help people.' I explained. 'Not just doing paperwork.'

'The only thing you've actively been doing is causing chaos.' Barton said bluntly and I raised an eyebrow in his direction. That was harsh. Too harsh. But it was the main consensus. 'Isn't it funny that all these problems started when you did?'

So now we were onto the bit I'd been waiting for, the bit where I was spit on from above. At least now I could convert my fear and anxiety into anger.

'No, I don't think it's particularly funny.'

'Who are you the most loyal to? SHIELD or the UN?' I pulled a face. How was that even a question?

But it was. Because that was the problem that I'd been trying to solve for myself for the last few days and had so far, found no answers.

'Do you have a close bond with Director Ross?' Steve asked and I tried not to smirk.

'Apparently not. I've been trying to contact him for the last couple of days with no success. I think he's avoiding me.'

'Why would he be avoiding you?' Steve asked curiously and Natasha suddenly brought her cell out of her pocket.

'I've no clue.' I answered, watching her press a few keys before passing me her cell with a knowing look on her face. I didn't want to know what her smirk meant. I raised an eyebrow at her, holding her cell to my ear.

'Go on.' I could hear the tone on the other end. 'It's Ross. Show who you're more loyal to.'

'How about being loyal to myself - ' I muttered, cursing her for putting me in this position but secretly glad that finally got to chat to Ross. I thought I would be having this conversation in my own time, with my own rules. I didn't want to be speaking to him when I was practically drenched in my own sweat, my paranoia at an all-time high and three pairs of eyes staring back at me.

Even if one of those sets of eyes did belong to Steve Rogers.

'Romanoff? What is it, I'm busy.' It was Ross. I could finally say everything that I'd been waiting to. I swallowed thickly. I could do this. I needed to.

'No, it's Hamilton. I need to talk to you, sir.' There was a second of pause before Ross continued. I was basically holding my breath.

'Is this about the gala, Hamilton?' Yes, you prick. Yes it is. 'You did a great job of - '

'Why wasn't the information shared with SHIELD?' I snapped, cutting him off. I'd waited long enough and had been treated badly enough to justify putting my entire career on the line for this.

Right?

'It was our intel, Hamilton. And I don't see why - '

'I don't see why the protection and safety of a foreign King isn't everyone's intel, sir.' I shot back, listening to the brief pause on the end of the line. Ross wasn't an idiot, despite my problems with him. He knew what I was doing.

'Are you making some kind of point here, Hamilton?' He asked and I just imagine him sat at his desk on the highest floor of UN HQ with his coffee and priceless suit.

'Consider the point to be that I won't be participating in any more missions in which our intel isn't everybody's intel.' I said firmly, my heart missing a beat. I could be sacked for this. I probably was going to get sacked. 'No creeping in via the back door. No more sneaking a drug into someone's drink.'

'I could have you fired right now, Hamilton, and that would be your entire career ruined.' Ross said bluntly and I almost winced at his tone. I hated getting told off, despite how often it tended to happen these days.

'Then you'd lose one of your best agents.' Now wasn't a time to be meek or self-deprecating.

'You're a 5 foot pile of lead who can speak a couple of languages.' Ross said harshly and I rolled my eyes.

'Actually sir, I'm a 5 foot 4 pile of lead who has a countless number of contacts with everyone you could ever come into contact with, exceptional language knowledge and who can do a double Arabian on a balance beam. It's me or it's nothing, sir. There are plenty of other organizations who would willingly have me.'

Ross didn't answer me for several seconds. I took a deep breath, the empty tone ringing in my ears. I'd done it.

Suddenly, silence. Ross had put the phone down on me. The head of the UN had hung up on me. I stared down at the phone in my hand, a smirk rising to my face.

I was going to help people but wasn't about to sacrifice my personal morals to do that. And, judging by the way Ross had spoken to me, I'd either blown everything or that was exactly what I'd got.

\- A bit of a long and intense chapter, what did you think?


	64. Sessantatre

That night, I found myself free from my surveillance duties. I'd somehow managed to survive the gruelling interview which had felt like it lasted all day despite it actually lasting just under an hour. My nerves had been frayed and I'd been ready to dive into an ice cold shower but I'd managed to get through it without breaking down.

I might have revealed slightly more than I'd intended to concerning my personal affairs - I'd never expected to be sharing my fear of deserts for reasons that I didn't want to think about - and I might have been ready to keel over at the end but I'd survived.

Tonight I intended on spending a full 5 hours chatting with the gang and cuddling with the dogs because I felt like I hadn't seen either of them in an age. My internal clock was now used to only having a couple of hours sleep and while I could have used my night off to get an early night, I wanted to spend it with my friends because you only live once, right?

We'd had our first singing session and were currently delving into several boxes of pizza, ranting about how our lives were going.

The production company had finally got back to Bertrand and, unsurprisingly, he'd got the part he'd auditioned for.

'But obviously you got the part - ' Britt grinned, gently nudging him with her foot from where she was sat on top of the piano, and he rolled his eyes.

'What part even is it?' I asked, reaching for another slice of pizza. Bertrand smiled smugly at me.

'I'm not at liability to say.' I raised an eyebrow, watching Bertrand take another sip of beer.

'Fuck you! Tell me! You have to!' I said, feeling outraged. Bertrand just look smug and held his hands up, the rest of us starting to heckle him.

'You'll just have to wait and see!' He teased and I rolled my eyes.

'I hate you.' I said sternly, a smile on my face.

'I know.' Bertrand grinned nonchalantly. 'Because some people are off having amazing jobs at the UN while some people are still stuck in the chorus line of a musical where the producers have no appreciation for my college degree.'

'Oh poor you - ' I joked, smacking Remi on the back of his head as he leaned over me and tried to steal a slice of my pizza. I pointed a finger at him, shooting him a sharp look. 'Because you're not totally living your dream.'

As much as Bertrand complained about his job, you could see it in his face whenever he talked about it that he was actually loving every minute of it. He shrugged his shoulders, a smile creeping onto his face.

'Have you heard back from anyone?' Trish asked Remi with a smile. He sighed, rolling his eyes and I felt a pang of sympathy. The theatre industry was brutal and for every audition that Bertrand successfully booked, Remi didn't even get a call back.

'Nope.' He said bluntly, picking a flake of pizza crust off his hand. 'It's been nearly a month. I'm assuming it's a no.'

'I hate those producers.' I mused and I saw Trish nod biting her lip.

'I hate Cari's boss.' Remi replied, nodding over to Cari who rolled her eyes.

'She's not that bad.' She insisted, curling a lock of her tumbling blonde hair around her finger. 'She gave me a 10 minute long break yesterday.'

'Well that's brilliant!' Britt chuckled sarcastically. 'That's practically a vacation!'

'Because we're all forgetting that you work in Barneys which is practically slave labour.' Bertrand shot back with a grin. He'd been complaining for as long as I could remember about Britt's lack of holidays and it had become a long running joke between us.

'I can't explain it, it's just my natural glamour.' Britt joked with a smile.

'Says the girl who dropped a slice of pizza down her top.' I shot back.

'What can I say? It's an art - '

'And now two of us are mysterious, seductive secret agents - ' Bertrand said, quirking his eyebrow and winking at me. I shot Trish a look, watching her smirk. The others didn't even know the half of it.

'How about no - ' I said quickly. 'I'm hated by half the world because everyone thinks that I'm a spy who's trying to get them all killed.'

'There's no way that that's true.' Britt said with a roll of her eyes and I raised an eyebrow at her. Did she want to bet?

'No, that's basically true.' I repeated, looking over at Trish for conformation. She glared at me.

Okay, maybe that was a slightly exaggeration. Maybe not everybody but enough people for it to be noticed by me.

'But no one seems to care!' I whined, realizing that the couple of bottles of beer I'd consumed may have been going to my brain slightly. 'I'm trying to help people and do my job but no one's letting me because they've all made their minds up that I'm a traitor and a horrible person. And I know it's my fault because I shouldn't have tried to impress everyone because it was obviously going to blow up in my face but I just wanted to do well because it's SHIELD and - '

'RAE!' Britt grabbed my shoulders and shook me gently, cutting me off. 'Calm the fuck down.'

I let out a breath. He was right. They were all right as they stared back at me with the same kind and worried expression. I met eyes with Trish who made her way over to me and wrapped her arms around me.

They were right. I needed to calm down. I was only hurting myself by getting so worked up.

I breathed in her scent, enjoying her warmth and took in another deep breath. 'Just...calm down,' Trish said warmly. 'Everything is fine. You're okay. You've not been sacked. The world's not exploded. You've - '

'Not drowned in a vat of oil - ' Remi butted in through a mouthful of pizza. I raised an eyebrow at him.

'What the fuck?' Britt said bluntly, voicing all of our thoughts in her strong and stereotypical New-York accent that I adored.

'You don't know how SHIELD deal with people they don't like.' Remi defended and I felt myself smirk slightly.

'Not by drowning them in oil - ' I said pointedly. At least, I didn't think so. That definitely wasn't a humane killing method.

'That's James Bond anyway.' Cari continued.

'Love James Bond...' Bertrand muttered under his breath and I rolled my eyes. Of course he did.

'You're such a boy.' Britt chuckled.

'And?'

'James Bond is a misogynistic man-child who drinks like a fish and doesn't understand the basic principle of espionage.' I continued firmly. Bertrand shrugged, stealing Britt's final piece of pizza.

'Harsh.'

'You're going to absolutely fine.' Cari promised me, in the reassuring way that she always did that made me believe everything she was saying. 'Give it time and they'll be falling at your feet.'

Yeah, because I'll have poisoned them or something. That was what people thought, anyway.

'I'm sure that they will because I heard a very interesting conversation before I went in for my talk.' Trish said and I narrowed my eyes.

'Between who?' I asked, my curiousity peaking.

'Steve, Natasha and Stark.' She said simply, smirking slightly and I inwardly groaned.

'You look smug. That can't be a good thing, what did they say?' I asked, biting my lip. What had they been saying about me? Was it something to do with my talk? What had they thought about me?

'Stark was asking how you were doing and how your talk had gone. Steve was practically gushing about you - '

'No he was not.' I said sharply, not imagining any world where Steve would openly gush about me. Trish was exaggerating. She had to be.

'Yes he was!' She insisted, grinning from ear to ear and I almost cringed at how happy she looked at what she was about to say. 'He was gushing about how it's amazing how you can speak so many languages at such a young age and - '

'He did not say that - '

'Yes he did!' Trish shrieked, the rest of the gang looking on bemused. 'I wouldn't lie about something like this.'

I knew that she wouldn't. And that's why I felt worse. What had been the motives behind his words? Had he simply been praising me as a colleague? Or was there another reason for his words? And what was that reason?

I knew that I liked Steve. He was funny and kind yet determined and a clearly a good, wholesome person. He was possibly the most righteousness person that I'd ever met.

And he was insanely attractive. I couldn't just ignore it; he really was very nice to look at.

But he was also my colleague. And I had to at least try and be professional.

'Natasha was looking quite smug about something.' Trish continued and I figured that the smirk Natasha had been wearing was similar to the one Trish wore now. 'Maybe the bet is back on?'

'What bet?' Bertrand asked and I rolled my eyes, not quite sure what to think about the bet. Did I want the bet to be back on? Did I want our non-existent relationship to be talked about?

'Before I was an enemy to mankind, the Avengers were betting on whether Steve would express his feelings for undying love for me.' I deadpanned.

'He's in love with you?' Cari breathed and I rolled my eyes as Trish chuckled.

'No. That was the point. That was why the whole thing was ridiculous.'

'I don't think the bet was ridiculous.' Trish said seriously and I met her gaze, my brows furrowing. 'I think that he actually does have some feelings for you but he tried to repress them because of your bad reputation. But because he can see how awesome you are and how you're helping with everything, he's letting those feelings show again.'

'Helping with what?' Remi asked before I could speak. I was sure my mouth was hanging open. My heart had gone into overdrive. Was what Trish was saying the truth? Could Steve actually have some romantic feelings towards me? Had that been why our relationship had felt so strange over the last few weeks?

'Solving the shitshow that is currently going on.' I stuttered after moment, noting how Trish's eyes shot to me, with a knowing look on her face. 'Someone is messing up the systems.'

'And you don't want that happening in a government organization - ' Bertrand mused and I shook my head. That was an understatement.

'I'm trying  to find what's happening because no one else seems to give a damn.' I said bluntly, letting out a deep breath. 'But I'm wondering if...if it's all for nothing and - '

'It definitely sounds like something.' Britt said, gesturing to the wound on Trish's head. 'Something sounds fishy.'

'And you shouldn't stop doing what you think is the right thing just because other people don't give a damn.' Bertrand continued, repeating my words from earlier. I bit my lip.

He was right. They were all right. They usually were. But after days of searching, I'd found absolutely nothing and was beginning to grow a little tired.

What if I was searching for nothing? What if it really was just a basic fault that just hadn't been fixed yet?

'Who cares about other people.' Cari said with a smile. 'You're the one who has to live with your choices. Do what you believe - '

No. Trish hadn't been injured by a ghost. There were too many unsolved questions and too many shifty occurrences for the whole thing to be a figment of my imagination. There was something there to be found. I just had to dig a little deeper.

I met Trish's eye, the wound on her head blinking at me like a flashlight. 'I'm going to find something.' I muttered, more to myself than everyone else but I knew Trish heard it.

She nodded, just as Bertrand played the opening chords to Baby One More Time by Britney Spears, one of out firm favorites. 'That's the Rae I know.'

FEATURED SONGS:  
Baby One More Time - Britney Spears


	65. Vierundsechzig

The next day, I arrived at work reinvigorated by my talk with the gang, the songs that we'd sung and the alcohol that I'd consumed. I was going to find out what was happening.

I'd spoken to Ross and hadn't yet been murdered by any of his men. Had I finally escaped from under his thumb? It was too early to tell. But for once in my life I was feeling positive.

Anything really could happen.

I was going to find something.

While I wished I could fully concentrate on trying to find out what was happening with the systems, the fact that I had my assessed training mission tomorrow was ruling my thoughts.

It was really stressing me out. The fact that the end of my training and my evaluation were both closely looming did nothing to comfort me.

I had scheduled some hardcore practice sessions with Trish later. I needed the extra practice. I didn't want to leave anything to chance.

Trish appeared to be relatively calm about the whole thing, although I was sure that she was just closely hiding her nerves. She'd told me that I could flip and shoot and therefore I'd be fine.

Her words didn't calm me down either.

I'd been listening to a mixture of Carrie Underwood and Elvis Presley while I made a note of everything that I currently knew about the situation, in the hope that I knew more than I thought I did.

I really didn't.

I needed to think logically.

I knew that someone or something was causing the systems to malfunction. I knew something had attacked Trish and then seemingly disappeared.

I presumed that the attacks were coming internally. But what if they weren't? IT hadn't been able to answer many of my questions concerning how far away the culprit would have to be to hack the systems. They could basically be anywhere in the world.

This did nothing to narrow down my options.

I needed to find a motive. Whoever or whatever was doing this couldn't simply be doing it for the kicks. There had to be a reason. A reason why they would want to muck up SHIELD's systems and cause some general chaos.

My mind was whirring.

What if it was actually something else? What if the disturbances were just a distraction to keep them from seeing the real problem here? Was there something I wasn't seeing?

I was getting ahead of myself.

I needed to figure out who or what was responsible. Everything else could come later.

It was no secret that SHIELD had an inordinate amount of enemies. Scanning through all of the missions from the last 6 months alone told me that there were a countless number of people who hated SHIELD enough to want to do something like this.

I needed to narrow them down somehow.

The culprit would need to have a big enough motive as well as the resources and funds to pull something like this off.

Whatever it was that they had actually pulled off, apart from confusing everyone. I hadn't quite worked that bit out yet.

I scrolled back through the missions, my clearance allowing me to see all but a handful of the SHIELD missions from the last 6 months. There were so many possible perpetrators.

I took each mission individually.

Would a gang of drug lords hack the SHIELD systems?

I highly doubted it.

Then who would?

There were too many options for me to continue going through them like this. I was wasting valuable time. I needed to narrow the field - or look at it from an alternative view.

What if the perpetrator was within SHIELD?

This was an even scarier thought.

There were thousands of SHIELD employees and some of them weren't even active or even in the country right now. How could I narrow them down? I hadn't been able to make out any of the features of the person who'd attacked Trish, other than that they'd been tall and muscular.

But to me, everybody looked tall so this didn't help matters.

I bit my lip, thinking of the work that I actually needed to get done soon.

I could fly through that during my lunch break. I could eat and work at the same time.

The person or people or whoever was responsible for this would need to be fairly good with computers and technology, wouldn't they? But then I suppose they could just have been told what to do by somebody else.

They would have to have access to the maintenance room because someone attacked Trish even if I wasn't entirely sure how or why at the moment. Even if I had been scanning the CCTV footage for what felt like most of my life and had found exactly nothing.

I rested my chin on my hand. Why would someone attack Trish? She wasn't a high-ranking agent. She hadn't been doing anything. She didn't know anything about -

What if we did, though? What if the reason they'd attacked her was because we were onto them?

But onto them with what? I didn't know anything! Like, anything! I had nothing...

And yet, they'd still attacked Trish.

Had they simply attacked her because they'd been given the opportunity?

Someone was in that room. The fact that I had no clue how they'd disappeared or who they were meant nothing. Someone had been up to something. And they had to have a motive.

I pulled up the current CCTV footage of the maintenance room, searching for a connection that I wasn't even wholly sure existed.

There must be something. What was I missing? What I had I seen so many times that I wasn't even seeing anymore?

The maintenance room was just rows and rows and rows of computers and systems and buttons. The floor was blank. The ceiling was blank. The walls were blank aside from the lights and the vents to cool the machines down...

Shit.

How was I so utterly, utterly stupid?

The vents.

You could climb through the vents without being seen by the cameras and then enter the room that way. You could also exit that way.

Especially if you disabled the lights and the cameras in the corridor while you did it.

It was genius, really.

And I was a complete and utter moron.

My fingers danced over the keys as I quickly tried to find the vent blueprints for the compound. They had to be on the system somewhere. And then I could maybe begin to narrow down just who could have had access to -

Fuck. They were password protected. And even my clearance code wouldn't let me in.

Fine.

There must be a paper copy somewhere on the compound. Other than engineering, I knew that a lot of the building regulatory stuff was stored in Hill's office.

We'd have to do this the old fashioned way. It was time to go snooping.  
   
***  
Mercifully, Hill wasn't in her office. I quickly brought up all the CCTV cameras of the corridors leading into her office, just to be sure that I wouldn't be caught off-guard.

Being caught snooping around Agent Hill's office was something that I knew Fury wouldn't look too kindly on. If the blueprints were password protected, it was safe to say that I didn't have the access to look at them and I knew he probably wouldn't listen to my explanations.

My heart was beating so loudly in my chest that I was surprised that the rest of the world couldn't hear it. I needed these plans.

Hill's office was like my own office in many respects: fairly large and airy with a desk and a bookshelf and a filing cabinet.

It was the filing cabinet that I was interested in.

None of the drawers were labelled so I took to opening, quickly scanning and then closing as quietly as I could, each one in the hopes of finding the drawer that contained the blueprints.

I wasn't tall enough to disable the security camera and couldn't waste the time to hack into the systems so was praying that simply keeping my back to the camera and acting as nonchalantly as possible would work.

There were a lot more files than I'd expected and Hill didn't have the most organized filing system.

'Regan? What're you doing in here?'

I shot round at the mention of my name, trying to push the drawer shut as quickly as I could as keep my composure to give the illusion that I was doing nothing out of the ordinary and definitely not looking for password protected blueprints.

It was Steve.

Steve of all people.

Honestly...

'Hey - ' I said cheerfully, ignoring his question and trying to look like the embodiment of innocence. My heart was beating so rapidly I was surprised I hadn't collapsed.

'What're you doing here?' He repeated, closing the door behind him. He wasn't shouting at me or escorting me off to Fury which was a good thing. But now I had to lie in the face of...well...Steve.

'Waiting for Hill.' I answered quickly.

'Funny, so am I.' He said with a grin, leaning against the door frame. I chuckled, surprised at how convincing my laugh sounded but horrified at the look on Steve's face.

He knew. He so knew that I wasn't supposed to be in here and that I was not waiting for Hill.

I needed to change tactics and quickly. My conversation with the gang yesterday was still ringing in my ears. Trish thought that he liked me. If he really did, then he would be susceptible to a little shameless flirting on my part.

I felt like a super-villain, trying to corrupt Captain America by sticking my chest out and sporting the look that had foreign dignitaries falling at my feet.

And what if he wasn't affected? Then he obviously didn't like me and -

'I didn't know Hill had called you in to debrief you on this morning's mission.' Steve continued, standing up a little straighter and taking in the way I was leaning against the table, my hands on my hips.

I smirked, happy that I'd decided to put lipstick on this morning.

'Obviously, not about that mission.' I said with a roll of my eyes, sticking my hip out and pouting my lips slightly. 'She wanted to talk to me about something.'

'Something?'

'Yeah, I don't know what. But she's not here so I'm just going to wait for her.'

'Right.' Steve said with a nod, his eyes lingering slightly on my chest before shooting to the wall beside me. Were my tactics working? I didn't know if I was succeeding with flirting with him or if I was just making him feel awkward.

But he did look a little pink so...

'I heard about your mission. Finding out information on the attempted assassination of the president of Croatia.' I said calmly, watching Steve's eyes flit about. He nodded.

'Yeah.'

'It was successful?' He nodded again. I folded my arms just below my chest, causing my boobs to stick out even more. 

'Regan?' He murmured, his voice slightly quieter than it had been a moment ago. I raised an eyebrow.

'Yeah?'

'Just...Errr...What - ' He stared at me, biting his lip and looking a little awkward. 'Really? I just saw Hill and she didn't mention - '

I stared back at him, taking in the look in his eyes. I sighed, releasing my arms and leaning back against the sideboard.

'Fine. I'm searching for the vent blueprints.' I said bluntly, watching Steve's eyes narrow slightly. Now that I'd stopped flirting so appalling, I could talk more confidently to him.

Had he known I was shamelessly flirting? I knew that he wasn't stupid but...

Anyway...

'Why?' Steve asked, his voice having returned to normal.

'I think that's how the person who attacked Trish and possibly the person responsible for hacking the systems managed to get in. And I'm trying to narrow it down and - '

Steve was going to report me. I knew it. He was a stickler for the rules. There was no way he would - 

'You're looking in the wrong drawer.' He said with a nod, gesturing to the drawer I'd just managed to close with my shoulder. I thought he hadn't noticed but of course he had. 'It's the far left.'

I couldn't speak for a moment. Had Steve just helped me break the rules?

'Those files are password protected.' I said slowly, wondering why the hell Steve was doing this.

'I know.' He said with a smile.

'And you're helping me.'

'Yep.' He grinned, his face lighting up and sending a wave of butterflies through me. He really did have an amazing smile...

Get a grip, Rae.

'Okay.'  

\- Steve and Rae finally seem to be on the same team again! What's going to happen next?


	66. Шестьдесят пять

\- Out of all the songs in this story, I'd highly recommend listening to She Used To Be Mine by Sara Bareilles whilst reading this

I glugged down half a bottle of water, wiping the sweat from my forehead and forcing a deep breath through my lungs through the gulps of water. Behind me, Trish was copying my actions, her face wet with sweat. She shot me a wry smile.

'Let's take 5?' I nodded.

'Good plan.'

I'd spent the entirety of the afternoon so far basically beating the shit out of Trish, and having her beat the shit out of me, in anticipation for tomorrow. We planned to move onto guns shortly and then Trish would move onto knives and I could either continue my gymnastics or go back to work.

I never got a free moment nowadays. But that was how I liked it.

'You okay?' Trish asked me, leaning against the wall of the gym, her eyes focusing on me. 'You seem a bit tense.'

Tense might have been a bit of an understatement.

I'd spent a hour before lunch trawling through the vent blueprints with Steve, sure that I'd have some sort of breakthrough or eureka moment where everything would become clear and all the dots would join together.

Nothing had come up. If anything, I now had more lines of enquiry to follow up because there were just so many damn possibilities.

'I was convinced that I was onto something and then I wasn't.' I said shortly. 'And I dragged Steve into the whole thing.'

He hadn't mentioned the first half of our encounter while we'd been looking through the blueprints and I was actually quite glad about that. He hadn't responded to any of my actions with anything other than a subtle blush, which I assumed was because I'd been scaring the poor guy rather than he found me attractive.

Trish's hunch appeared to be wrong. And he managed to get the truth out of me anyway. It had been a stupid plan in the first place; he'd known that I wasn't waiting for Hill the second he entered.

I wasn't particularly good at lying to people I knew, which was a problem, really.

'Somebody hit me on the head.' Trish said after a moment. 'So you're onto something.'

'Something was scared that we were getting too close.' I said, having already explained my latest theories to Trish. She nodded.

I felt like I was going around in complete and utter circles. Every time I thought I'd found something, it turned out to either be a fluke, a false alarm or just get me into more trouble.

It wasn't fair. I was trying to solve this mystery, practically single-handedly, and no one was giving me anything for it.

Mostly, I was feeling frustrated and annoyed with myself. I should have been able to find something. I thought I was clever and good at my job. Yet I'd so far found absolutely squat.

'Don't beat yourself up about it.' Trish said, reading my disgruntled expression and pushing herself off the wall. She paused, biting her lip. 'Do you feel like you've still got something to prove?'

'Yes.' I said instantly. I felt the constant need to prove myself to people, even though I'd told myself to stop giving a damn about what others thought about me.

That showed just how much of a hypocrite I really was.

'Everyone thinks I'm shit.' I felt dejected and hopeless. The endorphins from the exercise had faded away now, leaving me like an empty husk of myself.

'That is absolutely not true.' Trish said sharply, his eyes narrowing. 'That is not true, Rae. I think you're incredible. So do some of the recruits. So does Steve, despite what you think. So do the Avengers, despite what you also think. You - '

'It's the training mission tomorrow.' I said glumly, cutting her off. 'It's not enough to show that I can be a good agent. I need to show that I care about SHIELD. I need - '

'No, you do not need to do anything.' Trish said forcefully, her voice angrier than I could ever remember hearing it. 'You just need to be yourself. You need to be your amazing, resourceful and intelligent self. You have nothing to prove to anybody, you hear me?'

I did hear her, I just wasn't really absorbing her words. They weren't going in. They were just floating around my brain, not being acknowledged.

I heard Trish sigh. 'You can't work like this.' She muttered and I nodded. I needed to be on top form tomorrow, whatever mine and Trish's conflicting views about tomorrow were. 'You need an intervention the only way we know how.'

'What?' My brows furrowed as I looked back at her. What was she talking about?

'Through the medium of song.' Trish said looking cheerful and my brows furrowed even further. She rolled her eyes at me. 'You get up on that.' Trish gestured to the block behind me which could resemble a balance beam if you squinted a bit. 'And we can have a sing, do some gymnastics and stop you feeling like a shit person all at the same time.'

I stared back at her like she had a screw lose. She stared back at me, her stance solid. 'I'm not letting you out of this room until I'm happy that the normal Rae is back.'

'And if I don't do my work? Or miss my surveillance shift?' I asked, the pedantic, childish part of my brain coming out. When I was feeling low, I became empty and blunt and petulant and hard to deal with.

Trish folded her arms, gesturing me to get up onto the block. 'Then whoever calls you out on it will have to answer to Trish Manning.' She said.

Slowly, as though my legs and my brain were no longer connected, I moped over to the block. It was roughly the same size and width as a balance beam.

I turned back to Trish as she plugged her phone into the sound system. She gave me a hard look as Christina Aguilera's Keeps Getting Better suddenly filled the room.

I pushed myself up onto the block, perching onto the end and pulling off my shoes. Trish was stood facing me, pushing some hair from her face.

As much as I hated to admit, Trish could read me like a book and new exactly what I needed and exactly what would change my mood.

Music started an involuntary response in me that I couldn't possibly ignore. I stretched out my feet, walking along the length of the beam, feeling the rubbery texture beneath my feet. I could hear Trish singing along as the song came to an end.

'Well then? Get flipping or singing or something.' She said with a grin, Shiska Goddess from The Last 5 Years now filling the room.

I could feel the strength running through my legs as I stretched out my feet and clenched my core, spinning into a pirouette, then another. My hair whipped around my face as I landed stretching my arms above my head and pivoting.

I took a deep breath, taking a step forward before propelling my weight forward as I flipped through the air, my feet landing with a smack on the block, my back arching.

I didn't think what I was doing; I just did it. I didn't think about anything really - I followed the music and the rhythm and Trish's voice next to me as I walked up and down the beam, twisting my body and holding my breath and feeling the nerves running through me in the seconds before I attempted a move.

I tuned my thoughts out, only Trish's words managing to break through my barriers. I hadn't even realised I was singing until Trish shouted 'louder' in my direction.

I looked up at her. This wasn't a time for technique or style. I needed to let everything go and scream every single negative emotion out of me.

I sang louder, watching Trish shimmy her shoulders in the way that we always did when we went to any kind of club or party.

I knew that the entire floor could probably hear me right now as I paused for breath, leaping up into the air to land straight back on the beam. But I didn't care. It didn't cross my mind to care.

The smile had slipped onto my face without me even noticing, my head completely wrapped up in the music and the steps and Trish's contagious laughter that had me feeling almost delirious with happiness.

This was why Trish was my best friend and why she always would be. This is what she did to me, what she brought out in me. She made me feel so utterly happy and relaxed sometimes that I didn't even know what it was to be sad.

She knew me better than I knew myself. I threw my head back in laughter as my voice soared, stretching my leg out behind me as I dived towards the block.

'MAKE THOSE JERKFACES LOVE YOU!' Trish shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify the sound over the music. I giggled, taking a moment before attempting a backwards leap.

'With the power of my diaphragm?'

'YES!' I snorted. 'It's an amazing diaphragm and is stronger than some people's abs.'

'It's better than generic hot guy one and two and three's abs.' I smiled gleefully, landing my back handspring almost perfectly.

'It's better than everyone's abs. That can be your super power - '

'I'm now Diaphragm Girl.' I chuckled, the hilarity of the situation sinking into my skin. There was no room in my head for anything that wasn't Trish or the music or the block or my amazing diaphragm.

And that was the way I wanted it.

'Press will have a field day.' Trish beamed back, her eyes almost glimmering. I could see what she was saying in her expression: this is better, this is the old Rae, Rae is coming back from whatever dark and dismal place she's been in for the last few days.

The music changed abruptly and I instantly sobered up, the opening chords shocking my system. Trish knew what this song meant to be, how much I related to it, how many times I'd cried myself to sleep with this playing in the background.

It was just a random song from a musical to anybody else, just She Used To Be Mine from Waitress, a song that didn't mean a single thing.

But it meant a lot to me.

'I'm not letting you out of this room until you belt it so loud that Fury is forced to come and see where the voice of that nightingale is coming from.' Trish said seriously, a whisper of a smile on her face.

'Ha ha.' I said blankly, turning away from her and raising my arms above my head. The song was suffocating me, taking up every ounce of my being.

I stopped listening to it a while back. I hadn't actually heard it for a few years. It reminded me of everything that I had tried to forget.

It was the first song that I'd heard on returning from Sudan. The song that had followed me through the recovery process, when I'd completely lost who I was and who I wanted to be.

No, I hadn't lost it. It had been stolen from me. Stolen by a gang of terrorist rebels who'd wanted to send the Americans a message. A message that had resulted in the deaths of 42 of my UN colleagues.

I'd been 1 of 4 survivors. 1 of those survivors had killed themselves a couple of months after returning, the memories too harrowing for them to live through any longer.

I couldn't deny that I hadn't considered it in the months that had followed. Whenever I would be having a good day, a day when I'd managed to drag myself out of bed, forced myself to eat and take a shower then I'd notice the scars and bruises on my skin, hear my screams and I'd start crying again.

The cycle had seemed endless. I'd been back at home for less than 6 months when Dad had gone missing.

That had almost pushed me over the edge. If it hadn't been for Sam's counciling, the support from my friends and family, the stubbornness of my mind I sincerely doubted whether I would still be here today.

But I was here. The fact that I was listening to this song before Trish proved it. I was still here, years later. I'd survived.

And I wasn't acting like it.

I was still rebuilding myself, rebuilding my whole life. SHIELD was supposed to be part of that rebuilding process. Something fresh, something different for me.

And while it had been different, it had also been shit. But that was life. And it was nothing to what I'd endured in the past. I was allowed food, for starters.

I was doing something rewarding. Not everyone could say that. I was doing something I loved. Not everyone could say that either.

Not everyone could say anything. Some of them were dead.

I heard Trish pad over to the sound system, hitting rewind, the song starting again.

I met Trish's eyes, warm and kind. I opened my mouth and starting singing.

I was quiet at first, almost shaky and cautious. My voice grew as the song progressed, hitting notes that I'd forgotten I could hit, as I pushed the tears away.

This song was who I was. This was who I was.

Imperfect. Broken. Messy. Lonely. Reckless. Tough. Kind. Hopeful. Fiery.

The song faded away, my voice cracking slightly. I slowly sat down onto the block, tucking my feet into my chest.

I met Trish's eyes, no longer feeling as though everything was spinning away from me out of my control. I just had to lean forwards and catch it.

'Thanks.' I murmured, my voice breaking. Trish nodded, not needing me to explain everything.

I had needed this. I needed a good kick in the head to remind me what the hell I was doing and who the hell that I was.

I was becoming an official SHIELD agent. I was smashing the training mission tomorrow. I was finding who was taking it upon themselves to fuck up SHIELD.

And I was Regan Hamilton. Regan Alani Hamilton if we were being formal.

And I did not give up.

FEATURED SONGS:  
Christina Aguilera - Keeps Getting Better  
The Last 5 Years - Shiska Goddess  
Sara Bareilles - She Used To Be Mine


	67. 六十六

I was back on my surveillance shift that night, although I was well aware that my mind was firmly on things other than the CCTV footage that was playing out in front of my eyes.

I had a new sense of determination now, thanks to Trish's intervention, to figure out who was responsible for the goings on at SHIELD and what their motives were - because surely they had bigger ambitions than causing a few lights to fuse.

I'd taken pictures of the vent blueprints on my phone before replacing them in the cabinet because while I doubted Hill would be regularly checking for them, I didn't want another burden on my conscience. I plugged my phone into the computer next to me, the shaky images appearing on the screen.

I leaned forwards, resting my chin on my hand. There must be something here.

The vents would explain how the perpetrator was able to disappear so suddenly and would also explain how they'd been able to move around the base undetected. So that was something.

But the list of people who could have accessed that vent was bigger than I'd ever anticipated.

Great.

I'd not been able to find any footage at all of the perpetrators in the maintenance room, other than the time when myself and Trish had caught them red handed. That led me to believe that they hadn't actually been in the room. Or at least not often enough to be detected on the cameras.

So if they weren't hacking in directly, and were basing their operations from another location, then why the need to go into the maintenance room in the first place?

I moaned, leaning my head against my hand. None of this made sense. None of their motives or thinking made any sense in my mind.

I let out a breath. I needed to keep focused on what I did know, rather than what I didn't.

Let's say that they were hacking in remotely. IT had confirmed that this was possible and would explain why I hadn't picked anyone else up on CCTV.

All the computer systems had been thoroughly checked and no one had been found to be hacking into the systems, nor any foreign objects implanted in. But this was SHIELD - some of the best hackers in the world walked under this roof. There was undoubtedly a way to hide yourself from prying eyes and make sure that no one else knew what you were doing.

I kept my mind wholly focused on the fact that the perpetrator was probably acting from within SHIELD. This narrowed my search down and I didn't even want to consider the possibility that someone could be doing this out of the comfort of their own home.

The chance of catching them then was basically reduced to nothing. Unless a miraculous piece of evidence was suddenly discovered.

I needed a way of narrowing down the list of people who could be the hacker. I wracked my brain.

To be the hacker, they would need to be accessing an electrical device, whether it be a phone or a laptop or a tablet. That much was certain, wasn't it?

That much had to be certain. I couldn't cope with so many moving variables all on the board at once.

I backtracked the CCTV to the first day when a problem had been noted, when the Brazilian embassy had been visiting the compound. That felt like a million years ago now.

I figured that the hacker must have hacked into the systems that day. It made sense that someone might want to disrupt the day when an embassy was visiting. And because the systems were scanned almost daily, I doubted they'd be able to act much before this without being detected.

Although I didn't know how advanced the technology was, or how good the hacker was. I only knew the basics from what Jemma had told me and what I'd picked up at the UN. I had no clue how this person operated.

My plan was going to be an extremely lengthy one. It was going to keep me up long after my surveillance shift was due to finish. I'd be surprised if I wasn't up all night doing it.

But I didn't have another plan right now.

Someone had done something to trigger everything that had happened and for some reason they wanted it to remain a secret. They were willing to hurt others in order to keep it that way.

And I wasn't going to have it any longer.

I was going to search through all of the CCTV footage up until the moment the sprinklers were activated at 1:30. I was going to note down every single person I saw using any kind of electronic device.

I was then going to skip forwards to the next incident and, again, note down anyone using a electronic device. I'd do it again and again, following the incidents in SHIELD in the last couple of weeks.

Hopefully, there would be some overlap. And within that overlap would be the name of the person responsible.

I was well aware that my plan had many faults and gray areas. What if the program only had to be installed once and the perpetrator didn't need to hack in again? What if all the names were merely coincidence? What if the perpetrator had kept out of sight of the cameras and they never made the list?

I pushed all these thoughts aside. I needed to do this.

'Hey - '

'HOLY SHIT!' I gasped, jumping out of my chair as I turned to see Steve, peering around the doorframe. I collapsed back into my chair, holding my head in my hands as I tried to get my breathing under control.

I'd be so involved in my thoughts that I hadn't even heard his footsteps in the corridor. It was that, or Steve had been walking very lightly.

I hoped it was the latter. I couldn't afford to be losing my touch now.

'I'm sorry, sorry, I thought, I shouldn't have done that - ' Steve said quickly, looking embarrassed and I rolled my eyes at him, smirking slightly.

'Don't worry about it.' I joked, sounding almost breathless as I took in his appearance. There was a bag slung over his shoulder. It looked like he was going home.

Maybe I'd had a bigger influence at SHIELD than I'd first thought. Steve was actually going home, rather than hiding away in the gym. What did that mean?

'You look busy.' He said, gesturing down to the scattering of paper that laid on the desk in front of me. I rolled my eyes.

'Yeah. I'm still trying to figure out who's been mucking up SHIELD's systems.' I paused for moments. 'And thanks for helping me look through the blueprints and not ratting me out to Hill that I basically broke into her office.'

Steve chuckled. He could have easily gone to Hill and explained that he'd found me sneaking around her office. But he hadn't. 'Did it get you anywhere?' I shrugged.

'I don't know. Maybe. There's too many variables for me to focus on at the moment.'

'You okay?' Steve asked and I narrowed my eyes.

'Course I'm okay.' I said with a smile, shifting my weight. Why was he asking about me? Why was he even still here talking to me? Why hadn't he gone home? 'Why?'

Steve stalled for a moment, blanching slightly. 'I was training before. I heard you singing...'

Heard me spilling my guts, he meant. I swallowed hard. I hadn't wanted anyone to hear that but it was inevitable the way that Trish had been egging me on.

Was it really such a bad thing? a part of my brain thought. It was only Steve.

Yes. Yes it was.

'Course you did.' I murmured, reaching out for a lock of hair so that I would have something to do with my hands.

'You're really good.' Steve said with a grin and I was sure that my heart had skipped a beat. It was the first time anyone at SHIELD, other than Trish and Sam, had physically said that they liked my singing.

I'd forgotten how nice it felt to be complemented. Especially by a super solider.

'Thanks.' At the time, I hadn't really been dwelling on my singing ability. I'd been more focused on the fact that I had been basically in floods of tears.

Neither of us said anything for a moment as the blush on my cheeks faded. I tried my best not to look at him, instead sifting through the lists of names that I'd made of agents using electronic devices. Steve was even on a couple of them.

But he was my last guess of someone who would want to hack into SHIELD. I wasn't even sure that he could hack.

'I know that your time at SHIELD so far hasn't been the easiest - ' What? What was he saying?

That was possibly the understatement of the year. And to hear somebody say it, to acknowledge it, someone from SHIELD who had previously viewed me as a threat to humanity...

What had the day come to?

'You've moved on from thinking that I'm a double agent trying to kill you all?' I said sarcastically, using the humour to hide my shock. Was this some kind of apology? Steve nodded.

'And everyone else has too.' I gave him a sharp look.

'They're not acting like it.' I said firmly.

Steve stepped forwards, slotting his hands into his pockets. I could really get a sense of his height when I was sat beneath him. He could probably get criminals arrested just by looming over them.

'That's because some people are still slightly unsure of you and that others are intimidated by you.' I snorted.

'No one's intimidated by me. Not when there's people like you walking around - ' Steve didn't respond to this, casting it off with a warm look.

'Yes they are. You're more intelligent than half of the agents here. You're feisty. You can fight well. You can speak more languages than I have fingers.' I chuckled at this, shooting him a smile. 'You need to give yourself more credit.' He said in a soft voice that made my insides tingle. 'You're great.'

'Thank you.' I said, not knowing where to look or what to think.

'You don't have to thank me. It's true.'  

'And you're okay too, I suppose.' I said, directing the conversation back at me to disguise the warmth in my cheeks. 'You're nicer than Stark.' Steve rolled his eyes at this and I felt a pang of guilt. 'But he's alright too.'

'He'll be happy to hear that.' Steve joked and I grinned. 'Night then. I hope that you find something.'

'Night.' I said warmly, watching him linger by the doorframe for a moment.

'I might have a mission tomorrow morning so I might be out all day.'

'Does that mean the training mission is cancelled?' I asked hopefully, watching Steve smile and roll his eyes.

'Sadly not.' Steve said and my face fell. 'But I know you'll do brilliantly.'

'How d'you know that?'

'I just do.' I rolled my eyes at his answer.

'That's a rubbish excuse.' Steve grinned before leaving the room and I turned back to the computer, immediately missing his company.

What was I doing? Why did I find him so attractive?

I couldn't wholly deny it any longer. Yes, I found the man attractive but I was pretty sure every single person on the planet who was attracted to guys did as well.

He was a nice guy...

A nice guy who I had a teeny tiny crush on...

\- Rae's finally accepting her feelings! But what will become of them?


	68. Sessenta E Sete

I didn't get much sleep that night. Every time I felt myself drifting off, my subconscious would remind me that tomorrow I had my training mission where I'd be assessed.

This could basically determine whether I passed my evaluation or not.

And failing just wasn't an option for me.

By the time I arrived at SHIELD, my first coffee was beginning to wake me up but I quickly made a beeline for the canteen. I knew that coffee was crap for you and that I should have been filling my body with something clean and nutritious but I didn't see many other options.

I was going to fall asleep half way through the mission at this rate.

And that would certainly not look good.

I'd been listening to High School Musical in the car to try and psych myself up. I didn't really know if it had worked or not.

The only good thing about my training mission was that I was still being paid in the morning, despite the fact that I would be getting no work done. After the canteen, I headed straight for the floor that we'd been told to go to, my body wracked with nerves.

I'd briefly spoken to Trish last night before she'd gone to bed and I'd spent another 2 hours panicking about everything that could go wrong and I knew that she was also freaking out.

It calmed me slightly, only slightly, to know that I wasn't being pushed into this mission alone.

There was me, Trish and twenty-odd other recruits who were experiencing the same thing. And I was determined that if hot guy 1, 2 and 3 could get through it then so could I.

Even in moments like this, I did not get rid of my competitive nature.

I'd set off a little earlier than usual just to avoid any surprise traffic but I ended up being one of the first agents to arrive.

Great. Now I had more time to stew in my nerves.

We'd been told to meet in one of the gym rooms and, as I entered, I saw Christine and another agent warming up on the treadmills.

This was happening right now. Like, it was actually happening.

At the front of the room stood Steve, Natasha and Barton who were all quietly talking among themselves. They didn't have anything to be nervous about.

I felt slightly sick.

I could do this.

So Steve's mission obviously hadn't gone ahead, or he'd be running around some streets in London, if his case file was to be believed.

Because I definitely hadn't looked it up last night...

I headed straight for the treadmill next to Christine, hoping the adrenaline might be able to quell some of my nerves.

'Morning!' Steve called when I was half-way across the room, sounding remarkably cheerful.

'Morning.' I replied, noting how I sounded much less chirpy. I sounded like I was going to my own funeral.

I pushed some buttons on the treadmill, starting off at a slow pace. I waited a moment, before shooting a look back at Steve. He'd continued chatting to the others and Barton was laughing about something, though Steve was looking a bit annoyed.

Just a couple of hours and this would all be over. I'd be done with this mission and my guns and hand-to-hand evaluation. I'd be done with my written exam. I'd have all my marks.

I didn't want to make a fool out of myself, in front of Trish or any of the recruits or Natasha or Barton or Steve.

I wasn't going to let myself down. I couldn't.  
   
***  
Twenty minutes later, all the recruits had arrived. I hadn't been keeping track of how many buttons I'd be pressing and had only realized when Steve had come over to suggest I toned it down so I still have some energy that I'd been running at full pelt.

I'd nodded, wiping the sweat from my face and shakily moving down to a jog. I was letting the pressure get to me.

I couldn't let the flutters in my stomach cloud my brain, even if some of those flutters were because I was in the same room was my crush.

Natasha had explained everything to us, in seemingly excruciating detail.

3 whole floors of the SHIELD compound had been shut down for our training mission. It was that serious. I didn't want to mess it up.

It also turned out that we were being used as guinea pigs to test out some new SHIELD tech that had been recently developed. Barton had handed every one of us a pair of black goggles, as well as a gun containing foam bullets, that had looked fairly non-descript until he'd started listing what they could do.

They were night-vision, they had an installed thermal-imaging camera, they could link back to a single computer so that orders could be given out quickly and accurately.

They sounded pretty cool, on paper. But then he'd told us of the light safety warning that some had been known to get quite hot and sometimes even begin to spark.

So now I had to worry about my hair catching fire. Fantastic.

All of the tasks that we were going to do would be computer generated which would then be shown to us through our goggles. We would all have slightly different tasks to test out our own individual strengths and weaknesses.

This is all the information we were given. Simply 'follow the instructions on your goggles' and then a final good luck.

We were then randomly stationed at various points around the 3 floors and I was slightly disappointed to see that Trish wasn't on my floor. I couldn't

I quickly re-did my ponytail, my hands sweaty with nerves. The recruits had been quieter than usual, even the cocky, arrogant ones so I knew that nerves were getting to everyone.

Everyone wanted to pass and do well, not matter how pig-headed some of them were.

A countdown suddenly appeared in front of me, red numbers flashing before my vision that were counting down from 10.

I felt as though I was in some kind of spy film. But I couldn't spend time marveling over the technology. I had work to do. I tuned out everything that wasn't the writing in front of me.

To my left, at the far end of the corridor, I could see another recruit. I ignored them. The lights had all been turned off. I didn't know what this accomplished other than making me more on edge than I already was.

The second the flashing red numbers hit zero, green writing was scrawled across my vision. I took a deep breath, reading the writing carefully.

FIND THE GREEN SQUARE

I set off down the corridor, my gun pointed in front of me. This first task sounded fairly simple but I was under no delusions that there were going to be lots of traps laid out for us. This our final task.

I knew that it wasn't going to be easy.

I double checked every step that I took, my eyes keeping look out for anything green and anything that could be considered a trap. I was riding so high on adrenaline that all traces of my tiredness had disappeared.

I had no idea if this mission was timed, we hadn't been told about that, but I moved as quickly as I dared just to be safe. I'd reached the end of the corridor and hadn't seen a green square. I also hadn't been blown up to I didn't know whether it was a loss or a victory.

I sharply turned the corner, my gun still poised in front of me. My eyes immediately narrowed. Blocking my path was a clump of red laser beams, all crisscrossing over each other to form a barricade in my path.

Now I really felt like I was in a spy movie.

I gingerly stepped forwards, thinking for a moment. My instructions to find the green square were still the same. And I guessed that meant I had to get through the laser maze.

Great. It would be good practice for when I became a cat burglar.  
   
I tucked my gun into the back of my jeans, the metal cool against my back. I was lucky that I was small and fairly flexible. I could only imagine the difficulty some of the taller, less-flexible agents were going to have.

Holding my breath, I cautiously, moved my leg over the first laser, ducking to avoid one hitting my head. I had no idea what would happen if I let one hit me but I didn't really want to find out.

I ducked under the laser, keeping my arms clamped by my sides. I was basically holding my breath as I pivoted around the lasers and contorted my body into peculiar shapes.

Shit. I'd almost hit a laser. I took a moment, controlling my breathing. I was half way through. I couldn't back out now, I had to keep going.

Gritting my teeth and clenching my stomach muscles to keep me from falling, I weaved out of the rest of the lasers. By the time I stepped out of the lasers' path my palms were sweating and my legs almost shaking from clenching them so tightly.

That was done. I'd done it. I'd survived the lasers. And had the making of a high-stakes jewelry thief if Ross ever did decide to sack me.

I wiped my hands on my jeans, taking my gun back out. I let out a breath. At the end of the corridor, flashing on the wall like a beacon leading ships in to harbor, was the green square.

I stepped closer to it, watching as it slowly faded and the words disappeared from my vision. That meant task 1 was complete.

Hooray.

FOLLOW THE CIRCLE

I blinked rapidly as I took in the new instructions. What circle? I frantically looked around me. There was no circle. What did -

At the end of the corridor, a red circle materialized on the wall. I took a step towards it and it slid off the wall, disappearing around the corner.

Shit.

I broke out into a sprint, reaching the end of the corridor just in time to see it disappear around the next corner.

Of course I'd get a speed task. Of course.

I was going to kill Steve when I saw him. He was definitely enjoying this. He had to be.  
   
***

I soon lost track of how many tasks I'd completed and how long I'd been completing them. Each task found a new way to zap me of my caffeine-created energy and I wasn't sure how long I could keep going.

All I knew was that I had to.

After following the circle for what felt like hours, my legs were ready to give in. But then I was involved in a high-energy shoot-out with a couple of other recruits, forced to scale a wall, decode a message which was written in Morse (I was so glad I'd decided to revise this after Phil had mentioned it in his SHIELD history class) and another shoot-out, only this time my gun had locked up and I'd been forced to run away as quickly as I could.

The bullets were only plastic but that didn't mean they didn't hurt like hell when one hit you.

I had a feeling my gun had been deliberately locked up because there were no faults on it that I could see. If our goggles could be controlled by a computer, it wouldn't surprise me if our guns were too.

My next task seemed fairly simple, I just had to hit some targets. I managed to rattle few the first few quickly, until it became clear the difficulty was being increased. The targets now stood far beyond my height level and I had to make more attempts to hit them.

My hands were beginning to freeze from clutching the trigger so tightly. I didn't know long this was going to last. I couldn't afford to be incapacitated.

I also had the feeling that, after basically throwing myself around a corner to protect myself from the flying bullets, I'd messed up my ankle slightly. It didn't feel quite right and I knew that the second I got out of here I was going to ice it.

Ice it hard. Harder than Steve was back in the 40s. That was a bad joke. I should stop. I wasn't funny.

I turned the corner to see my next target slowly moving across the wall. Not only was this target practically on the ceiling but it was moving too.

Great.

This wasn't fair. I was half the size of some agents. I could only hope that the tasks they had been issued made their size a disadvantage to them, rather than an advantage.

I took a breath, honing in on the target. My nerves had been riding high for what felt like days. The fact that the levels were in darkness also didn't help to calm me down or keep my focused. It was a mental test as much as a physical one.

I hit the target on my second attempt, taking a moment to grin and collect myself before my next task appeared.

LOCATE AND NEUTRALIZE AGENTS SILVA AND MARTIN

That was hot guy 1 and 2. I rested my head against the wall for a moment, letting the cool sink through me. They were 2 of the best agents out of all the recruits. And both stood way beyond 6 foot.

I'd better get on with it then.

They weren't on this floor. I had ran across the whole of it searching for the targets, which meant I needed to head for the stairs.

The perfect place to be gutted like fish in a barrel.  
***  
I had taken the stairwell a step at a time and had thankfully not come across any recruits.

I had absolutely no idea how I was going to take down hot guy 1 and 2. Neutralize usually meant kill but I knew that, despite how much they annoyed me, this was definitely not what Steve, Natasha and Barton had in mind.

I zoned in on every single thing that moved, even my own shadow skulking across the wall. I would have to distract them with something and then knock them out. I'd knock out Silva and then take on Martin; he was the slightly smaller of the pair but I knew I was going to have to pull something pretty special to get him on the floor.

And while we were on the subject, why the hell was I taking down 2 agents? That wasn't fair in the slightest and there weren't enough agents to pair everyone up this way.

Did I have a partner that I didn't know about? I'd only find out when I found them.

I nudged around the corner, checking that the cost was clear before hurrying down it. How was I supposed to find both of them? Would they be together?

That would make sense because as well as being part of the hot guy collective, the also happened to be friends. They were the only people who could put up with their own arrogance.

I tightened my grip on the trigger as I turned the corner, hearing the faint murmur of voices. I crept closer. They were distinctly masculine, both with hints to a South American ancestry.

I'd found them. And they were together like I'd predicted.

I moved closer, turning my attention to how the hell I was now going to neutralize them. My plan sounded good in theory but there were so many factors that could go wrong.

There was 1 big one staring me in the face: the could crush me like a grape.

As I peered around the corner, I suddenly felt like I'd been here before. I had. This was the corridor that had been plaguing my every working moment for what seemed like forever. The corridor that led to the maintenance room.

This was some ironic shit, wasn't it?

I kept my eyes pinned on their movements as they laughed about something. I rolled my eyes.

Pricks.

I suddenly caught a flicker of movement at the other end of the corridor and I straightened my posture. A pair of dark eyes were peering around the corner, a lock of unruly dark hair bouncing out of the ponytail -

Trish?

No. It couldn't be...It was -

She caught my eye, a smirk blooming on her face. I gestured towards hot guy 1 and 2, hoping she got my message. She nodded. My heart was racing.

I did have back-up. In the form of my best friend.

Now came the hard part.

Silva was stood closest to me out of the pair, the gun glinting in his hand.

He was mine.

I squeezed the trigger as I leapt out from behind the corner, sending a scattering of bullets into the air. Silva and Martin spun around as Trish copied my actions. I concentrated my shots on Silva as he fumbled for his gun.

My breath was coming out in pants but I couldn't focus on this. I kicked out for Silva's stomach, sending him falling into the wall as I watched Trish fight Martin.

Silva quickly recovered, lunging towards me and blocking every throw I shot at him with his forearms. I hadn't fully realized just how strong he was. Crap.

I swung out for his legs but barely hitting him before he shot me in the chest, the bullets stinging. I spun around kicking him in the chest again, my eyes widening as I saw Trish flung against the wall. I aimed a shot at the back of Martin's head, only to be dragged off balance when Silva pushed my hard to the floor, his fist burning against my skin.

I let out a grunt, feeling his feet kicking against my ribcage, each more brutal than the last. I begrudgingly held my hands up, determined not to show any pain. He'd got me. Fine. I was on the floor.

But he didn't stop. I heard Trish yell something but I couldn't hear over the pain shooting through me. He wasn't stopping.

I rolled over, grabbing my gun and stumbling to my feet as he was dazed. My sides were screaming in agony. But if I stopped, they would hurt even more.

Silva wasn't going to stop. And from the headlock Martin was trying to force Trish into, neither was he.

I avoided Silva's blows, struggling to breathe and hitting out for his legs. I heard Trish let out a cry. She was lying on the floor, Martin leering above her.

I kicked out against Silva as he grabbed me around my waist, squeezing the air out of me.

'GET OFF HER!' I yelled as Martin forced Trish to her knees, throwing her head back.

'Shut up, you midget bitch.' Martin snarled.

Oh, okay. If he wanted things that way. I kicked back hard against Silva, my foot hitting just above his belt. So close and yet so far. I turned my gun on Martin, sending him backwards as Trish struggled to her feet.

Her nose was bleeding and she was holding her arm gingerly. The welt on her head was oozing what looked like pus.

'Get out of here!' I shouted as I dodged Silva's blows, reeling backwards as he hit me hard in the shoulder.

'No chance.' Trish replied firmly, if slightly pained. We were both too stubborn for our own good sometimes.

I fought back against Silva as he pummeled me with blows, seizing me around my middle and yanking me to the floor. 'You've no idea what you're dealing with.' He snarled.

Hang on, what was this about?

I saw Trish fall limp against the wall as I kicked against Silva's blows. He was going for my head. Everything hurt. I felt like he'd stabbed me everywhere. My ears were ringing. My vision was going blurry. Had he got my head? I didn't know. I heard a voice, was it Trish? Jacob?

I saw 2 figures emerge at the end of the corridor, seizing Martin and Silva under their arms and dragging them backwards. I let out a shuddery breath, turning the single eye that I could see out of to Trish.

She was sat slumped against the wall rubbing her head and glaring at Martin's back as he was dragged away by who I realized was Barton.

I swallowed the bile in my throat. What the actual fuck was that?

FEATURED SONGS:  
High School Musical - Get'cha Head In The Game


	69. Seksti åtte

I stood leaning against the wall, my mind still focused on the events that had happened over an hour ago. How I'd been able to complete the rest of my evaluations I had no idea; the only thing I could see in my mind was that corridor and the hard looks on Silva and Martin's faces.

It was alright - I was okay and Trish was okay. We'd surprisingly broken no bones and had only walked away with some bruises. My ribs were practically purple and I was determined to rock it.

But it didn't feel alright. They'd continued beating us even after myself and Trish had called them the victors. I could have easily put this down to the intense pressure of the situation but my mind wouldn't let me.

It didn't make any sense. I knew that they were both jerks but I didn't think they would go as far as intentionally beating up 2 recruits, not if they were serious about joining SHIELD. That was the sort of thing that could get them thrown out.  
They had been casually chatting - the hadn't exactly been hunting us down. Their attack hadn't been premeditated. And yet they'd called me a midget bitch and punched Trish in the nose.

It was safe to say that I was going to be extra wary of them now.

They weren't among the recruits that were currently waiting outside of the gym and I instantly began thinking of all the creative ways that Fury would be dealing with them.

I was kidding myself. They were 2 of the most promising recruits in this whole process. I highly doubted they'd be kicked out without an investigation first. That was the way diplomacy worked. And it usually ended up with the culprits being found innocent.

I had no clue why we'd all been called here; I thought our evaluation had been over the second I'd put down my pen. I was confident that I'd done well on my written exam and I seemed to have done okay on both my gun-control and my hand-to-hand combat.

Happily, I'd been paired with Agent Marcus who only stood 4 inches above my head and wasn't built like a house. I'd been able to get her onto the floor within a couple of minutes.

I'd been right about everyone having improved however. It was clear that everybody had been putting the hours in and refining their skills. SHIELD was going to have a great bunch of new agents, including Trish.

I just hoped that I wouldn't be judged on my background. I had to be let in.

'Sorry for the wait.' Steve suddenly appeared around the corner, flanked by Natasha and Barton, with Silva and Martin following behind him.

I was proud to see that Silva had a black eye. I glared at them both.

We were ushered into the training room, Trish stay close by my side as I kept my eyes fixed on Silva and Martin. They stuck by their fellow hot guy, Agent Carlos, and were furiously muttering under their breaths.

It was undoubtedly about whatever torture Fury had forced on them. Or rather, what he'd said to them.

I didn't think any of the other recruits knew what had happened between us and from the way Barton jumped straight into how we'd reached the end of our training, they wanted to keep it that way.

'You all performed really well in your training and you'll receive your results by tomorrow.'

By tomorrow I'd know whether I'd done it. I had a feeling that it was going to be another restless night for me.

'In the meantime,' Steve continued, 'we thought it would be a nice idea to showcase your physical development skills.'

I felt my stomach drop. Trish turned to look at me, her brows furrowed. 'I didn't sign up for this bit.' She murmured hastily and I nodded. At no point did I agree to perform a gymnastics routine in front of everybody.

'Obviously, each of you have very different kinds of skills and might not be able to as clearly show what you've been working on for the last few weeks but as this is your penultimate day as SHIELD trainees, we thought this would be a fitting end to your training.'

A fitting end that no one in the room had prepared for and judging from the looks everyone was giving each other, the weren't jumping for joy for.

I thought after the end of my written exam that would be the end of feeling wracked with nerves for a while.  
Apparently that was not the case.  
***

If I hadn't been so nervous, I might have actually enjoyed watching the recruits show off their skills.

The first recruit, a weedy, nervous-looking Agent Green, could handle a bow and arrow almost as well as Barton could. He stood in the corner, watching him shoot bull's-eye after bull's-eye, beaming like a proud parent and rattling off how archery improved your stamina, arm strength and hand-eye coordination.

I was almost persuaded to take it up.

Next it was Agent Marcus who was trampolining, a form of gymnastics that I'd never wanted to take up because of my aversion to heights. I knew that it took a great deal of strength and dedication and I'd never be able to work up the confidence to bounce so high.

However, I found that no matter how hard I tried I couldn't keep my eyes away from Silva and Martin for very long.  
They were sat directly opposite myself and Trish and hadn't stopped chattering since the moment they'd all been together.

'I wonder what Steve said to them.' Trish murmured next to me, as I tried to watch Agent Hanley demonstrate her amazing flexibility that I was jealous of.

'Steve?' My ears pricked up at the mention of his name. 'I thought Fury was dealing with them.'

'Steve was in there when Fury was talking to them.' My eyes narrowed.

'How d'you know that?' Trish smirked, shrugging slightly.

'Hill's office is opposite Fury's. When she was talking to me I might have...looked into his office and possibly tried to lip read.' I grinned at this.

Trish had already told me that Hill had called her into her office to ask her about what had happened and I presumed that it would only be a matter of time before she asked to see me.

I didn't really know what I'd say. I didn't really know what happened myself, other than that my ribs now ached like hell.

'Whatever it was, they don't look too happy.' I commented, watching how Silva snapped at his comrades.

'I'm not too happy. They kicked me for no reason and it hurt.' Trish said, rubbing her calf.

'I can't wait to see you do some of your crazy ninja skills.' I joked and Trish rolled her eyes.

'I'm not in full-ninja mode seeing as I can only move my leg up to a certain height but - '

'Half-ninja Trish is still more ninja than I've got in my whole body.' She rolled her eyes again and leaned down to rest her head on my shoulder.

'I can't believe we've done this.' She murmured. 'Joined SHIELD, I mean. It seems crazy.'

'It sure does.' I agreed. 'But then again, we are pretty awesome.' Trish smirked.

'Technically you have 3 skills.' Trish continued and I narrowed my eyes. 'Dancing, singing and gymnastics.'

'I don't know whether they'd count singing as a physical skill.' I said with a smile, thinking back to our earlier conversation when I'd been christened Diaphragm Girl. 'But I would much rather sing than fall flat on my face in front of everybody.'

And I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of my crush. Just saying that word made me cringe. It made me sound like I was still in middle school. But I couldn't think of any other word that described my feelings for Steve.

Crush. I had a crush. I guess I did...

'Agent Hamilton, you're up - ' Shit. Oh Shit.

Time seemed to stop. I wasn't even sure who had spoken, it could have been the Queen of England for I knew. Trish grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly.

I'd survived a SHIELD training course. I'd survived the Prague episode. I'd survived hell.

I could survive doing a couple of flips.

'Agent Hamilton does artistic gymnastics.' Natasha started to explain as I shakily got to my feet. 'Which - ' I only had 1 shot at this.

'I also sing.' I said, as confidently as I could, watching the surprised expression bloom on Trish's face. Yes, I really was going for this. 'Which also has many physical benefits such as strengthening the immune system, lowering stress levels, improving posture and your general mental health.'

I stood in front of Steve, Natasha and Barton, my chin high. I could feel Silva and Martin's eyes practically tunneling into my skull. I was really tempted to flip them off but knew this wouldn't help to prove my point.

'You want to sing.' Steve said simply, hiding what sounded like laughter in his voice. Was he laughing at me or with me? I didn't really know what was better.

'You can do both.' Natasha said and my eyes nearly fell out of my head. What?

They were just determined to make me look silly, weren't they? Still, I couldn't exactly turn down Natasha Romanoff. Or could I? We were technically colleagues after all. And just because she had a high status didn't mean I had to do everything she said.

I'd been backed into a corner here and I was going to have to pull through.

'Fine.' I looked over at Trish who was already rooting through her bag for her iPod that she carried everywhere with her.

I was seriously debating whether to sing a song from Hamilton. Yes, all of the songs had many parts and were far too complex for single person to sing on their own but I loved every single song and had an emotional attachment to them; my dad actually was called Alexander Hamilton.

Which supposedly made me Angelica. I couldn't complain about that.

But I needed to blow the smirks off people's faces. To be fair, not many people were laughing at me. But Martin and Silva and Carlos were. And they had egos big enough to count for the entire population.

And that meant pulling out the big-guns, namely Adele.

'What d'you want?' Trish called, the iPod clutched in her hand.

'Skyfall.' I said, tucking some hair behind my ears and watching Trish give me a conspiratorial wink.

I could do this. I'd done bigger things than this, way bigger. I sucked in a breath, the opening chords of the song filling the room. Trish gave me a thumbs up and a smile.

I was called Diaphragm Girl for a reason. I needed to use my superpower.

The singer in me leapt out as I opened my mouth. I was nervous yes, God was I nervous, but my nerves didn't matter any more. I was hitting every note and ignoring everyone's expression and enjoying the moment.

And the fact that Silva, Martin and Carlos were so obviously glaring at me made me sing even better.

I ignored the awkward silence that ensued as I finished the last note and turned towards the floor. I had a floor and beam routine to get done before I could congratulate myself just yet.

But I did notice that Steve was smiling slightly.

Stop it Regan.  
***  
I clenched my muscles, holding my final position on the beam as the music died away. I let out the breath I'd been holding.

I'd done it.

I may have fallen off the beam once and knew there were several things that I could have done better, but I tried to push this to the back of my mind.

I'd done it.

I hopped off the beam, my legs trembling slightly. Silva, Martin and Carlos were still sniggering. Anger struck through me as I glared at them. Yes, I'd fallen off once. But I would bet my life that they would have fallen off many more times.

'Come and show me what you can do then.' I said strongly, silencing the quiet chatter in the room. I folded my arms, my stance wide. I raised an eyebrow. Silva smirked, looking me up and down.

His gaze made me want to be sick. I was going to be sick.

'I can teach you a lot of things - '

'Which is why you're currently walking with a limp and have a black eye.' I snapped back, watching his smirk fade. 'Are they supposed to be a fashion statement?'

His gaze was threatening to say the least. But I wasn't scared of him. I wasn't scared of bullies anymore.


	70. Kanaono'eiwa

I came home from work that evening determined to get an early night and catch up on some sleeps. I showered, fed the dogs, fed myself and forced myself into my pajamas and into bed by the time the clock was striking 11.

But I couldn't fall asleep.

It was clear that my evenings on surveillance duty had messed up my internal clock more than I'd realised. Fury had given me the night off, something that I was grateful for, but I almost wished that he hadn't.

My mind was now used to shutting off in the AM rather than the PM and if I was on my surveillance shift then I could continue to whittle down my giant list of possible suspects.

Now that my evaluation was over, I could focus all my attention on solving that problem and my brain seemed determined to spend my every single waking second on the matter.

It was hard to believe that, after weeks of hard work and preparation, my evaluations were actually finished. Nothing disastrous had happened. I hadn't had a dreaded mind blank or pulled a muscle. My ankle had been fine, thanks to the stacks of ice that I'd piled on it.

I was still annoyed at myself for falling off the beam, though. I knew that I could do a full routine without falling off. I'd done it before. The look on Silva, Martin and Carlos's faces would be permanently engraved in my mind it seemed. The smugness.

I didn't know why they hated me so much. But the feeling was very much mutual.

I had no time to rest though, despite them all being over. I had to push through and find out who, or what, was responsible for continually fucking up all of SHIELD's systems.

Sighing in annoyance, I rolled over onto my back. The night was freezing and, given the house's grand scale, it was difficult to keep the heat circulating. I had three blankets piled up on top of my duvet.

I pushed some hair from my face. I needed to collect together everything that I knew and everything that I thought that I knew. I bit my lip.

The perpetrators had to be inside SHIELD. They simply had to be. Someone from outside SHIELD wouldn't have known what exact time the Brazilian embassy would be arriving. It had to be an inside job. This made the muscles in my stomach tense up.

They had to have the hacking ability to get into the SHIELD systems without being noticed or flagged by anyone in the IT department. They also had to make my list of people using technology.

Or at least, I thought they did. It wasn't a very reliable source of inquiry but it made me feel better to know that I was at least doing something.

I kept getting stuck on the motive. SHIELD had hundreds of enemies outside of SHIELD, but inside, everybody was on the same side. No one wanted to see SHIELD destroyed or tarnished or for innocent people to be killed.

Why would someone be doing this? I didn't know. And I needed to.

I also couldn't think about what had happened in the training exercise. And Trish.

Steve had called her name, she'd stood up to demonstrate her kick-ass ninja abilities, and had very nearly fainted. She'd been taken off to the med-bay, her head banging and her dark skin an unusual shade of green.

The nurses had decided to keep her in overnight to check up on her and make sure that she didn't have any internal injuries from either the maintenance room or the training exercise.

I hated to think of her being trapped inside that sterile, empty room for another night. Deep down, I knew it was for the best and she needed to be looked after but I knew that she would be hating every second of it.

I was hating the fact that I'd have to see Silva, Martin and Carlos's smug faces practically every day on the compound, now that I was sure they were going to be made official recruits. Hill hadn't asked to speak to me so I was going to seek her out myself tomorrow morning.

I had known that they were arrogant dicks who happened to be pretty handy with their fists and had come 1st, 2nd and 3rd in practically every test that we'd been set but I hadn't known that they were violent, possibly unstable and had a likening to beat people up.

Wait a minute.

Back up a little. Hold the phone. Shut the front door.

I grabbed my list of possible suspects that was sitting pristine on my bed side table. I scanned the list, my heart quickening. All 3 of them were on it.

I shot up, my head groaning a little as I struggled to get my thoughts in order.

No...Yes....No, it couldn't be...

I'd said countless times that they were the best agents in the whole bunch of recruits. I had no doubt that they all had the skills. And they were all within SHIELD.

In fact, posing as a recruit really was the perfect guise wasn't it? They could sneak around the compound and no one would ever bat an eyelid at them being there.

I forced myself to take a breath. My hands were getting clammy.

That's why they'd been laughing outside of the maintenance room. Carlos had been stationed on another floor. I didn't know which one.

But why? Why do it? I held my head in my hands, wanting to scream. There had to be a why. There had to be a why. Everything else fit, I wasn't imagining things, there had to be -  
   
That was it.

When I'd been researching up on all the recruits, I made a basic profile of them all. Silva, Martin and Carlos had all been born in Brazil. They had Brazilian family members.

And I was willing to give my left arm that all 3 of them had family members who had been killed in the fiasco with the Avengers in Brazil a few weeks ago.

The embassy hadn't come to build bridges at all. They'd come to scope the place out.

That was why.

Shit.

I shot out of bed, throwing on the clothes that had just come out of the laundry. I scrabbled around in the dark searching for my sneakers and yanked my hair into a bun, grabbing my purse and then running out the door.

I took the stairs 2 at a time, not thinking about anything other than what direction I was currently moving in. My heart was pumping. I needed to go faster. I ran out the door, hastily locking it behind me and scrambled into my car.

I had to pray that there were no cops on the road because I definitely was not going to be keeping to the speed limit.

***  
I needed to warn somebody. Preferably Fury or Hill or someone in power. I needed to tell them what had happened and what was being planned.

They were obviously building up to something bigger. Some grand act of revenge. And they certainly weren't going to be concerned for innocent lives.

This was real. Right now, this was real. It was actually happening.

I hadn't seen it and now innocent people could die. I had no clue when this attack was going to take place or why they had waited so long.

For all I know, it could be tonight.

I didn't bother locking my car when I arrived at SHIELD, thankfully having not seen any cops en route. I sprinted through the doors, cursing the finger print and retina scanner before bursting into the foyer.

The whole compound felt silent and eerily deserted. The white lights seemed to bright as they lit up the corridors, causing my eyes to look away.

I reached for my gun that was in my bag, something else that I did out of habit. I couldn't think straight. Everything seemed to much. What should I do first? Where should I run? Who should I tell?

What if I spooked them? What if I made the whole thing worse?

Without realizing where I was going, my legs had brought me to my office. The one place out of everywhere in this whole compound that I felt the safest. The place where I was safe because no one really knew that it even existed.

I ran over to my desk, reaching for the comm that sat in front of my computer. I didn't want to use the phone. Phones could be tampered with.

'Steve? Steve are you still here?' Nothing. Silence. He might be training and just taken it out for a while. I sucked in a breath, reaching for the phone and dialing Hill's number.

But there was nothing. No dial tone, no buzzing, nothing. The phone lines had been disconnected. The comms had probably suffered the same fate.

That couldn't be a coincidence. Something was happening tonight. Something was happening right now.

Shit.  
***  
If something was going down tonight then I wanted to be prepared. I'd 'borrowed' 3 packs of bullets from the armory and had shoved them not so discreetly into my pockets. I needed to be on guard.

I also needed to find someone to talk to, someone that I trusted and preferably someone who wasn't Silva, Martin or Carlos.

I still couldn't believe that they'd do something like this. Or, actually, I could. It was the fact that I was here trying to stop them that I couldn't believe.

I doubted that they would be alone, too. Back-up was probably coming straight from the Brazilian embassy. They might already be here for all I knew.

I stalked through the corridors, my gun poised in front of me and my eyes wide and alert. I'd been sleepy when I'd slid into my car but now I'd been shocked awake. My heart was pumping faster than I thought was possible, and definitely faster than was healthy.

I paused for a moment, my ears searching out for the slightest noise. I could hear something around the corner. I'd come to the training floors, thinking this would be the best spot to catch Steve, Natasha or any of the other Avengers.

I slowly moved closer, my hands gripping the trigger. I shot around the corner, my gun sure in front of me and relaxed slightly to see that it was Steve. He had some weights in his hands and his eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them, currently locked on the gun in my hand.

'What the hell is going on? What are you doing here, you're not on your shift?' He asked quickly, not unkindly but clearly urgent. I didn't know how he knew that I wasn't on my shift but that didn't matter right now.

'I know who's behind it.' I said quickly, flexing my hands but keeping a careful eye on the surrounding corridors. I explained everything that I knew: how Silva, Martin and Carlos were responsible, how they'd lost family in the attack and how they were probably bringing back-up right now. 'Comms are down. They're doing something tonight, something now.'

As soon as I finished speaking, the lights flickered off. I clutched the gun tighter. I'd been correct then. Something was going on now.

'Fuck.' I murmured, my breathing labored. The emergency lights quickly came on, illuminating the room in a red glow.  Steve crossed the room and reached for his shield that he, obviously, had with him.

'We need to do something.' I breathed, trying to get my thoughts in order but my senses were going into overdrive, feeding off my heightened nerves.

I suddenly shot around, picking up on the flicker of movement that I'd heard behind me and squeezing the trigger before I could even think about what I was doing.

It was a man with a gun, currently locked on Steve. He dodged my shot and stepped forwards. I squeezed the trigger again, getting him in the leg and sending him sprawling into a heap on the floor.

'What was that?'

'Saving your life.' I said simply. I didn't know who the man was, he wasn't a recruit. And that meant the back-up had arrived. 'We need to split up.'

'What? No - ' Steve said but I ignored him.

'Yes. We need to spread the word and evacuate the agents and find out where they are. Now. People are going to die if - ' Steve reluctantly nodded and crossed the room again, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He reached into it a handed me a walkie-talkie. I raised an eyebrow.

'I always have them with me.' He shrugged, smirking slightly. 'I'm old fashioned like that.'

'Funny.' I breathed, quickly checking that it worked. 'There'll be more on this floor. You should go. I'll hold them off.' Confusion flashed over Steve's face. In the red light I could barely make out his features.

'What? Regan this isn't about  - '

'You're obviously the faster runner.' I said, cutting him off. 'You need to get the word out. I'll keep these guys occupied so you can get out.'

'No - '

'Yes!'

'No, Regan - '

'Yes, you need to go now. Protect the lives of the many, not the few, right?' I had no idea what I was doing. All I knew was that soldiers were potentially swarming the building and Steve was the fastest runner and I had to stay here and hold the fort.

I pushed my nerves to the back of my mind. They couldn't exist right now. I couldn't listen to them. Otherwise, I'd buckle under the stress and the fear.

Steve rolled his eyes, running a frustrated hand through his hair. 'That doesn't mean leaving you here!' He hissed exasperatedly.

'You need to go. Go, otherwise lots of people are probably going to die, Steve. Go or I'll be grumpy with you. And grumpy Rae isn't good.' I said this as seriously as I could, swallowing the thickness in my throat and reloading my gun.

I looked away from Steve, peering down the corridor. Nothing yet. But it would only be a matter of time.

Steve was still stood by my side, biting his lip and looking annoyed. I raised an eyebrow at him. He knew it was the better option, he must have.

After a moment he sighed, turning away from me. 'Keep in contact at all times?' He said, gesturing to the walkie talkie in his hand. I nodded. 'Stay safe, okay.' I nodded again, pushing away my current thoughts and feelings.

I couldn't afford to be feeling things right now. I had a job to do.

'Aye aye Cap.' Steve rolled his eyes but I didn't react. Every single part of my body felt like it was shaking. I watched Steve run towards the opposite corridor, pausing for a moment before disappearing out of sight.

Come on Rae. Get a grip.

 - It's all kicking off now! Thanks for reading!


	71. Seventy

I needed to figure out a way to keep every enemy soldier that came around the corner occupied, so that they couldn't go off and cause any more damage around the compound.

I also needed to keep them all together, for the same reasons. I needed to lure them into one space and then take them all down. In an ideal world I'd knock them out but, realistically, I knew there were going to have to be some bullets involved.

I had no idea how many people I was possibly dealing with. It could be in the hundreds. I was also counting on every enemy soldier taking the same route that the now collapsed solider had taken: down the corridor that would lead them straight to me.

I knew that this wasn't going to be the case. There would be others undoubtedly entering at other points on the compound. I'd just have to take out as many as I possibly could.

I stared down at the walkie talkie in my hand. It was silent. I knew that Steve would be able to sort things out, or at least start the evacuation process and spread the word as to what was happening.

I stepped forwards, quickly checking that the corridor was still empty, checking that the fallen soldier was still alive. He was groaning slightly, clutching his lower leg. I'd shot him non-fatally; he was going to be fine.

'Keep pressure on it.' I said quietly, not thinking about what I was saying. The soldier glared back at me, his eyes empty.

Every soldier who entered the compound was going to be seething with rage. This was a revenge mission, a retaliation mission, a mission in honor of the people whose lives had been lost in the dispute.

The people whose relatives were now storming SHIELD.

They weren't going to be very friendly or forgiving. Anyone working under the name of SHIELD was going to come under attack. And while I could easily have switched to my UN badge, Ross's words were still ringing in my ear.

No, I didn't do that anymore. I didn't play two sides, when one desperately needed saving right now.

I shot 3 bullets into the empty corridor, cautious to avoid the injured soldier. The bullets reverberated off the walls, echoing in the eerie silence, and the solider let out a loud yell in shock. If the enemy soldiers were anywhere close, they'd come running at the sound of bullets and the shout of a comrade.

At least, I hoped they would.

I crept back into the gym, clicking the safety off my gun. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no plan. What was I thinking?

I held my breath. I could hear the almost unidentifiable light patter of footsteps. Trained, experienced footsteps who knew how to be silent, how to be a shadow.

I peered as slowly as I could around the corner that I was hiding behind. I knew that there was no way they could possibly shoot me from here, they being in the corridor while I was in the gym. But my pulse was still running away from me, fueled wholly by adrenaline and fear.

There were 4 of them, all fitted out with tactical gear and clutching military-standard guns.

Come on Rae, get a grip.

They surged towards their fallen comrade and I picked up broken parts of speech. They all spoke English but with a clear accent that I quickly identified as Brazilian. The more time that passed, the more dots that were joined and the more parts of my idea became fact.

I caught the words 'midget bitch' as the injured man explained what had happened to him. I'd been called this quite a lot over the last few days. Had Silva been reporting back to his bosses? Was this what I had been affectionately known as?

It wasn't my favorite nickname that I'd ever received. But then, these weren't exactly my favorite people.

I couldn't see Silva, Martin or Carlos within the group, something that I felt rather pleased about. I didn't really want to face them again, particularly as I was now alone and still recovering from my injuries.

I couldn't think that far ahead. If I worked like that I'd end up getting ahead of myself and would make a mistake. I couldn't afford to make any right now.

Despite having 3 boxes of bullets stuffed in my pockets, I still had a limited supply and it was the most terrifying feeling in the world to run out of bullets mid shoot-out. I didn't really want to waste 4 bullets on shooting them, if I could help it.

But I was going to have to use some to get, and then keep, the upper hand. I couldn't let my grip slip, otherwise I'd end up dead.

The leader of the group was standing at the gym door, his eyes carefully surveying the area. He was going to see me in a moment. And I wanted to get the upper hand before he had that opportunity.

I shot him in the leg, sending him collapsing to the floor and the 3 others immediately swarmed forwards and started shooting in my direction. My hiding place was good, the wall jutting out far enough to protect me from the bullets for the moment, but I knew I was going to have to move eventually.

I urged forwards, trying to keep my hands steady as I aimed at the closest of the soldiers. I couldn't get a clear shot. They were constantly moving. I sent out a warning shot, the bullet narrowly grazing his skull. He ducked down and I caught a 'fuck' leaving his mouth.

Well then.

'Put your guns down and no one will get hurt.' I shouted, my diplomatic voice coming into force. Now wasn't the time to be diplomatic, I knew it, but I was running out of options.

While the soldiers stalled for a second, I lunged out and shot the closest soldier in the arm, quickly reloading my gun and shooting another. I shot back behind the wall, hearing the footsteps of the remaining solider thudding closer.

My breath was coming out in pants. I held the gun close to my chest. If I didn't pass my gun handling then I was going to show the CCTV footage of this moment and ask them why the hell not.

I heard a crackling coming from my pocket. The walkie talkie. Steve.

Shit.

His words were muffled by my pocket. What was it? Was everything okay? Had something happened?

But I couldn't check. In my moment of absent-mindedness, I'd forgotten the mission. I'd lost my hand. I hadn't been keeping my eyes focused.

The final soldier was now in front of me, his gun trained on my chest. I slowly raised my hands up, panic running through me. Shit. Shit. What had I done? I was screwed. What had I done?

In panic scenarios, in true fight-or-flight situations, I really was working solely off of involuntary reactions. Because in no self defense class would you ever be told to tackle a man with a loaded gun.

But I did.

I seized hold of his hands clutching the gun, pushing them away from me and simultaneously kicking his legs out from underneath him. I threw the gun to the side of the room, before being knocked back by a punch as the agent got to his feet.

What was I doing? This guy was bigger and stronger than I could ever dream of being. I ducked his punches, kicking him in the stomach and sending him staggering to the side. He grabbed out for me, latching onto my hair and pulling it.

Hard.

I gritted my teeth, suppressing a scream as I kicked back against him. He kicked against my legs, throwing me to the floor and I inwardly moaned as a jolt of pain shot through me. I felt like my scalp was on fire.

I rolled onto my back, trying to scramble to my feet but the agent had pulled a knife from his belt and was raising it above me. I grabbed onto his arm, trying to angle it away from my body as I kicked my leg out hard against his jaw.

In surprise the man rolled backwards and I rolled onto my knees, staggering to my feet. I grabbed my gun, the cool metal now a surprising comfort in my hands as the man got to his feet. Before he could approach me, I sharply hit him across the face with it, sending him tumbling to the floor.

He was out cold.

The blood was rushing in my head. I was pretty sure my lip was bleeding from where the man had clipped me and my ribcage was aching but apart from that, I was still moving.

My pocket rumbled again. Crap. I'd forgotten about Steve.

'I was a little busy.' I answered, surprised at how out of breath I sounded. I heard Steve sigh on the other end and murmur something under his breath.

'Don't do that to me, Regan, I thought you were...I'm never listening to your plan ever again.' I didn't know whether to be a little hurt by this statement.

'I'm fine. That's 5 men down.' Had Steve really been so concerned about me? Steve didn't respond for a minute and I began to panic a little as I looked down the corridor. Not signs of oncoming attacks.

But I could now understand the panic of the other person not responding when you called them.

'And how many do you think we're looking at?'

'No fucking clue.' I said bluntly, reloading my gun and cautiously moving out of the gym and into the corridor.

'Great.'

'How are things your end?'

'I've started evacuating the agents. No sign of Fury or Hill yet. And comms are still down.' This is what I'd been worried about. If they'd been planning this for a while, which I presumed that they had, then basically every eventuality was going to have been accounted for.

'Keep looking. I'm gonna clear this floor and then figure out what to do next. Where are you?' I turned the corner, leaving the gym behind me and quickly moving down the next corridor. The fact that I wasn't seeing anyone was beginning to trouble me.

'Top floor. I'm going to work downwards and then we should meet in the middle.'

'Good plan. Be careful and - '

'You need to be careful too. There's going to be more of them on the lower levels.'

'Got that.' Suddenly I froze. I was sure I'd just head something. I shot around. There was no one behind me. But I felt like I was being watched.

'I've gotta go Steve I  - ' Something grabbed onto the back of my shirt and yanked me to the ground. Pain shot through me again. I was sure I'd just broken a rib.

I tried to roll over, already clenching my fists and moving into a defensive position. A gun clicked against my skull. The walkie talkie was kicked from my hand.

'What the hell is going on?' The voice was calm yet firm. I almost cried with relief.

Natasha.

'Why are you aiming a gun at me?' I shot back, rolling over to face her. She outstretched her hand to me, pulling me to my feet.

'Well?'  
***  
After explaining the situation to her and letting her confirm with Steve that serious action needed to be carried out, a plan began to be formed.

Natasha would work on the comms and finding Fury. Steve would take out the enemy recruits. And I had to leave the building while they dealt with everything.

Like that was happening.

'No way, I'm staying.' I said firmly, folding my arms and looking Natasha straight in the eyes. She really was gorgeous but now wasn't the time. 'I'm here and I can help. These guys are trained killers and are seriously pissed off. You need all the help you can get.'

'You sure about this, rookie? Things can get - '

'For starters, I'm not a rookie.' I said, raising an eyebrow.

'These are the guys that nearly beat you and Manning to a pulp and - '

My heart dropped.

Fuck.

Trish.

'The med bay.' I breathed, my eyes widening. Natasha's eyes narrowed. 'Trish. That's one of the lowest floors, that's - '

'Start there.' Natasha said and I took off down the corridor. 'Don't do anything stupid and keep in contact at all times and - '

I didn't catch the rest of her words. I was out of earshot, running faster than I had ever ran before. I'd completely forgotten about the danger my best friend was in. What kind of person was I?

If they'd hurt Trish then none of them would be getting out of this building alive. I'd make sure of that.

Bastards.


	72. Soixante Et Onze

-There is a possible trigger warning in this chapter of attempted and implied past sexual assault. If you don't think that this is something you'd enjoy, then you can move onto the next chapter.

I hurried down the stairs, my feet slipping over the steps. I wasn't thinking about how there could be a group of enemy soldiers around every corner that I flew around. I was only thinking of getting to Trish.

The corridors were dark and shaded, no longer illuminated in a red glow thanks to Natasha's handiwork but it seemed that whatever program the Brazilians had installed was messing with the lighting.

Every agent that I came across, which was thankfully a limited number, I pushed towards the nearest emergency exit. They needed to get out of here. Things were dangerous.

And yet I was still here.

I paused for a split-second when I reached the door of the med-bay, tucking the walkie-talkie into my pocket and tightening my grip on my gun.

I sucked in a breath, taking hold of the door handle and wrenching it open, my eyes searching for anything that moved beneath the flickering lights.

The silence was deafening. The only sound I could hear was my heart furiously beating in my own chest. I slowly moved down the corridor, investigating every room that I could. There was no one around, all the doctors and nurses and patients looked to have vanished. This could only be a good thing.

Right?

That meant they'd all got out before they'd got into danger. I couldn't count on that, though. I was going to investigate every room before I allowed myself to be relieved that Trish wasn't hurt.

A room located mid-way down the corridor made me pause. The heart-rate monitor was still flashing, the words 'Patricia Manning' still glowing in the faded light. This had been where Trish had been sleeping.

The bed was empty. It hadn't been made, the covers hastily thrown back. Someone had left in a hurry - hopefully this meant that Trish had managed to escape unhurt.

There was nothing else in the room for me to note, no open windows or broken glass or blood. Everything looked normal.

If a deserted med-bay could be called normal.

I cautiously pushed open the door leading to the second wing of the med-bay, frowning slightly at the resistance that met me on the other side. I gripped my gun all the more tightly as I edged around the door and my eyes widened.

4 nurses were lying slumped on the ground, still dressed in their scrubs, the gunshot wound blossoming like a flower on their backs. I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat.

These guys were serious. Their only ambition was seeking revenge for their loved ones deaths. They didn't give a shit about who they injured in the process.

My hands beginning to shake, I quickly informed Steve of the rising body count, glad to hear that he'd teamed up with Barton in evacuating the building. The top 3 floors were clear. I explained how med-bay was deserted. Steve told me, again, to be careful.

How could I be careful at a time like this? I was going to do whatever it took to punish the rogue agents for what they'd done. I didn't give a shit about being careful right now.

It was nice to hear it from somebody else, though. It was nice to hear it from Steve.

The rest of med-bay was also empty, from dead bodies and rogue agents. I allowed myself a couple of breaths.

I was going to head to maintenance next. I felt like it was the only place I'd been in the last few weeks. It plagued my every waking moment and even when I shut my eyes, I saw it in my dreams.

The only way to clear this up was to round up every single one of the rogue agents and make sure they didn't do this again. Whether that meant killing them or shipping them off to a maximum security prison, I didn't know. I hoped it was the latter.

I moved up the stairs as quickly as I dared, wincing every time my sneakers made a noise on the tiled floor.

I ducked, the sound of gun-shots seeming to ricochet throughout the building. I gulped and started running even faster.

'Where the hell did that come from?' I shouted into the walkie talkie, praying that they were just warning shots and hadn't actually harmed anybody.

'I'm on it.' Steve replied simply as a second round of bullets echoed off the walls, followed by screams. I wanted to crawl into a corner and cry as the panic began to set in. I had no idea where the shots were coming from, the sudden crack in the silence seeming to overwhelm me completely.

What was happening? Where was everyone? Where was Trish? The lack of clear communications was taking its toll on me. I had to know the location of everybody. That way, at least I had some answers and wasn't completely overwhelmed by the unknown.

I heard another voice, quickly pushing myself against the wall as I'd been taught to do. This voice sounded close; I could hear every time the man took a breath. He was speaking in rapid Portuguese into what I assumed was his comm. His boots squeaked on the floor as his voice grew closer.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to get to maintenance. That was where this whole thing had started and I was betting that that was where this would end too. But my path was blocked and -  
   
The lights flickered off, plunging me into darkness as gunshots pierced the darkness and screams filled my ears. My body froze, every muscle pulled taut. I didn't dare move. I hardly dared breathe.

People were dying. Right now, people were dying. And what was I doing? Cowering against a wall.

I couldn't do this. Yes, I could. I had to.

I would have to take a different route, the only other route that I knew of. If that way was blocked, then I was going to have to use some more of my bullets.

I pushed myself off the wall, holding my breath, and as silently as I possibly could, crept away down the opposite corridor. He was going to hear me. I knew he was. And then he'd come after me and it would be my body in a grave.

I was 5 steps away when I allowed myself to calm down and began to quicken my pace, breaking into a light jog. The lights were flickering now, allowing me a moment to see clearly where I was going before pushing me back into darkness again.

'Do you know where those gun-shots came from?' I asked as loudly as my voice would allow me. What if Trish had been caught in the crossfire? Or Natasha or Steve?

'Yeah.' Natasha answered and I bit my lip. 'Opened fire on a group of agents who were evacuating. 16 dead.'

16\. 16 innocent lives that had been taken, 21 if I considered the 4 nurses. 21 lives that shouldn't have been taken. This was what I had feared. The body count was going to continue to rise if something wasn't done.

'What floor?' I breathed.

'4th.' That was where Steve and Barton had been evacuating agents. They'd probably seen the whole thing. They'd - 'Steve and Barton are fine. And there's no sign of Trish, I'm guessing she's outside with the others.'

'Thank God.' Natasha had known what I was going to ask before I'd even said it. She knew me better than I'd given her credit for. 'I'm heading for maintenance now.'

'I'll meet you there after I've sorted out this floor.' Steve suddenly said. He sounded slightly out of breath but very much alive. 'Keep a look out for anything.'

'On it.' I felt comforted that I wasn't going into it alone. I knew I could count on Steve. I tiptoed up the stairs. I had no clue what I was going to come across when I got to maintenance. And if I met Silva, Martin or Carlos on the way, they were going to wish they'd never been born.

'I'm trying to contact Fury.' Natasha continued. 'He's automatically secured in the event of an emergency and that can make it hard to contact him.'

'Keep on that.' There were countless flaws with this design idea but I knew that now wasn't the time to be criticizing SHIELD's emergency policy. I could do that if I survived this mess. 'Are the other guys here? Sam? Tony? I haven't seen them - '

'Yeah. Wanda and Vision are off site but Sam and Stark are here somewhere too - '

'They need to be careful. They're going to come after the Avengers directly. It's you that they all have a problem with.' I slowed my pace as I arrived at the corridor leading to the maintenance room. It was silent. I peered around the corner. Nothing

I leaned back against the wall. It was unnerving me that I hadn't seen Silva, Martin or Carlos yet. Where were they hiding? What -

I heard the slow thudding of footsteps. My eyes narrowed. It sounded fairly close. I heard something that sounded like a moan, a human moan. What the hell?

I carefully looked around the corner, the grip on my gun tightening. I could see 5 men, all wearing black clothing and armed with guns. They were murmuring in Portuguese.

I tried to pick out any features of the men, anything that I could use to identify them. 2 of the men had their backs to me and were stooped over. What were they doing?

Suddenly, I caught sight of a figure being carried between them. It was man, his face bloodied, moaning in pain as he was dragged across the floor. He was familiar. He was more than familiar, I knew him -

Shit. It was Tony. I'd recognize that goatee anywhere.

He looked terrible. I hated to think of what other injuries he'd sustained that I couldn't see that would result him in being practically knocked unconscious. Were they taking him hostage? Or was their hatred so deep-rooted that they would simply kill him on the spot?

The soldiers who were dragging him suddenly stopped and left him lying on the floor. I immediately started trying to get a better look at Tony's injuries, while the men started talking quickly between themselves.

He didn't look to have any wounds to his torso and they hadn't shot him, which had been my biggest fear. The way he was lying slumped partly against the wall told me that he'd probably broken a few ribs and would have some amazing bruises. But that was the extent of my medical knowledge. He could have a punctured lung and I wouldn't know.

I had to help him. I had to get him out of here. They would kill him otherwise

I couldn't contact anyone, not this close to the enemy soldiers because I'd be found out in a second and then I'd get caught and that wouldn't help anybody.

Judging from the sharp, dirty looks the soldiers were shooting him, they didn't plan on patching him up. They were going to kill him. Fuck, they were going to kill him.

I had to get him out of there, one way or another. He didn't look to have any sustained any damage to his legs. Hopefully that meant he could still walk. Or run.

I was going to have to use some bullets here. There was no other option.

2 of the men had their backs to me and I quickly shot them in succession. This seemed to startle Tony awake as I saw him slowly open his eyes and cringe back slightly against the flickering lights of the corridor.

I hurried forwards, desperately trying to shoot the remaining 3 soldiers. The nearest one surged towards me, aiming a series of punches and kicks at me. I dodged his blows, kicking out at the other soldiers who approached me, sending one flying into the wall.

I was dangerously aware of the guns that were clipped to the soldiers belts as I kicked out, my eyes fixated on the slumped form of Tony. He was blinking furiously under the lights, holding his head in his hands.

'Can you walk Tony?' I shouted, my voice strained as I tried not to yell at the pain of being slammed into the wall, my gun spinning onto the floor. 'That would be really helpful right now.'

'Not really.' He groaned and I rolled my eyes, swinging around and knocking a solider to the floor momentarily.

'Well try harder.' I shot back, grunting as I misjudged a blow and staggered backwards slightly. I yanked my walkie talkie from my pocket and threw it in Tony's direction, my head spinning slightly. I had no idea what I was doing other than getting Tony out of this situation.

He needed medical help and I had to get these guys down.

I didn't look back to see how Tony had reacted as I was suddenly pushed onto the floor. I might have been working on my strength for the last 3 weeks but these guys had probably been trained since birth.

I let out a groan as my head collided with the tiled floor. Every part of my body was aching and my breath was running away from me, I was gasping for air as something hard hit me in the back.

Fuck. Come on Rae, get a grip. Do something. Get a grip.

My gun was inches in front of me. I could hear Tony struggling to his feet. They were going to notice him in a moment. And then they were going to kill him.

I shot forwards and grabbed my gun, rolling onto my back and shooting the 3 remaining soldiers that were looming over me. I gasped out a breath as the soldiers crumpled to the floor, my head lolling back against the tiles.

Tony had managed to drag himself to the end of the corridor and was now pulling himself up the stairs. I needed to check the soldiers for weapons or anything else that could explain what they were doing here.

Tony met my eye and I nodded, smiling slightly despite the pain that was shooting through me. I brushed the stray pieces of hair out of my face, allowing myself to suck in deep gulps of air that I'd been missing, that my body hadn't allowed me to absorb in my moments of panic.

I suddenly shot around. I could hear murmurs coming from the opposite direction. My legs were practically shaking. I'd given my walkie talkie to Tony.

I needed to think about my movements. I needed to make clever, strategic choices. But I also just wanted to kick Silva in the face for what he'd done to Trish.

I turned towards the nearest fallen solider, scanning his body for any weapon and seizing the spare gun that was hung on his belt. It was empty and my fingers fumbled as I filled it my bullets from my pockets. I was quickly getting low. I was -

'It's the midget bitch.'

Oh fuck. Fuck.

My day really was getting worse, wasn't it?

Or better, depending on your outlook.

I slowly rose to my feet, ignoring the shaking in my legs, and turned around. I was coated in my own sweat, my lungs still vying for air. I couldn't think about that right now.

Silva, Martin and Carlos were facing me, dressed in the same black uniforms. Martin's nose and lip were bleeding. Good. Someone had got to him first.

'What are you doing?' Silva sneered and I rolled my eyes.

'What are you doing?' I mimicked, pushing my fear aside. 'This isn't exactly how you honour your dead relatives.'

'You've no idea what happened.' Carlos snapped back, reaching for the knife that was holstered at his belt. I raised the gun in my hand, pointing it directly towards his chest.

'Oh really? I think I do.' I subconsciously stepped backwards as they stepped towards me.

Panic flickered through me. Despite my bravado and the bullets that I held in my hand, I couldn't kill them. I needed to get them to answer for their crimes in a court of law, in a way that didn't harm them. This was the diplomatic part of my brain talking and halting my finger from pulling the trigger.

'You know nothing. Stark's on his way out, so's Wilson. They'll all pay for their crimes in the end.'

Wait, Sam? What about Sam? No one had seen him and now Silva was saying that he was in trouble? And Tony was fine. I'd seen him take himself out of the danger zone only minutes ago. These guys were trying to mess with my head.

Right?

'Tony?' I shouted, my voice echoing down the empty corridor. Martin sniggered, wiping the blood away from his face. I got no reply. That meant that he was a safe distance away and was out of earshot.

Right?

'I hate to think what happened to all those patients down in the med-bay. Especially that friend of yours. The pretty one. What's her name?'

'If you have so much laid a finger on her, then I will kill you.' Silva stepped forwards so much that I could practically feel his breath on my face. My voice was dangerously low, my muscles clenching. Was Trish really okay? She had to be. They couldn't hurt her. I wouldn't let them hurt her. They couldn't...

They were feeding off my nerves and voicing my worst nightmares and I was reacting to it. I needed to knock them all out. It was 3 against 1, until Steve decided to show up.

Was Steve alright? I hadn't given it much thought. He'd said he'd be here. Had something held him up? What -

'Oh really.' Silva's voice was dripping with smugness. His eyes were glinting as he looked down on me, spinning the knife around in his fingertips. His smile was predatory. He was so close that I could probably kick him right now and be done with it.

Martin moved first, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me into a headlock. I seized hold of the knife and threw it to the side, kicking Carlos in the stomach and sharply elbowing Martin from behind me.

I moved quickly, aiming my gun as they righted themselves. 'Don't move.' I hissed, trying to shake the pain that was creeping into my ankle. I couldn't have it hurting right now.

'I thought you had more manners, Martin.' Silva gloated with a wink to me.

I wanted to be sick. His positioning and his tone and the way he was currently looking at me made me want to be sick. I couldn't show them that they were getting to me. I was supposed to be showing them how strong I was. But even I knew, in my semi-rational brain, that taking all 3 of them down without simply shooting them was going to take a miracle.

'Apparently not.' I said.

'I know how to treat a girl.' He continued, handing his knife over to Carlos. 'I'll show you.'

Fuck.

I instantly starting kicking when he lunged forwards and grabbed me around my waist and dragged me towards the wall. No. No. Not again. I wasn't...This wasn't....

I didn't realize I was screaming until a hand clamped itself over my mouth. I didn't know who it was. I didn't know whose hand was wrapped in my hair or who was telling me to stop or they'd cut my tongue out.

I didn't know. And I didn't care. I just wanted them to stop.

My ankle was throbbing as I continued to kick out behind me as I writhed in Silva's grip, flailing out against him. This wasn't happening. I was getting flashbacks: the scorching heat, the sand covering my body, the same lecherous men looking at me the way Silva was.

I was thrown to the floor and pushed onto my back, still kicking against Silva's grip but I seemed to have little effect on him. Martin and Carlos were by his sides, gripping the knives in their fists.

Silva's breath felt like dirt on my skin as he leaned over me, pinning my legs to the floor. I punched out as hard as I could, hitting Silva straight across the face, frustrated tears running down my cheeks.

'What's the problem, sweetheart?' Silva sneered, pressing his face into the crook of my neck, gently kissing me. I was going to throw up. No. Stop it. I closed my eyes. This wasn't happening.

'No. No. Please, no - ' The tears were freely running from my eyes as I struggled against Silva. His hands gripped my wrists, pinning me down to the floor. I couldn't bare to look at any of them. My entire body was shaking. I was kicking as hard as I possibly could but nothing I did had any affect. It just seemed to bring Silva closer to me, his breath more stifling, his grip tighter, the pain more intense.

Carlos suddenly groaned out in pain and my eyes shot open, seeing a white blur fly through the air and knock him to the ground. Martin was wrenched back by something and Silva finally drew his attention away from me, standing up and turning away.

I let out a breath. I could see what had happened. Or rather, who.

Steve.

Silva didn't have much time to think before he was lying on the ground and Steve was standing over him. I'd never been so glad to see anybody before.

His face slowly changed, from pure rage to something softer as he looked over at me. 'You okay?' I realized I was shaking. My ankle was shooting pain through the rest of my leg. He crouched down next to me and outstretched his hand to put it on my shoulder. I quickly moved away.

'Don't touch me.' I mumbled, my eyes skirting to the floor. I tried to remember the breathing exercises that Sam had given me, the way that I could ground myself back in reality and remind myself that I was okay, that the events I remembered were all in my head.

Steve nodded, taking his hand back and his brows furrowing in confusion. I swallowed the lump in my throat, flexing my hands as I sucked in gulps of air. Steve too in the bodies lying in the corridor, a small smile on his face.

'This all you?' I nodded.

'I'm fine.' I said slowly and Steve nodded, mirroring my body language next to me. 'Just give me a minute.' In for 5, out for 7. In for 5, out for 7.

'I know.' I was okay. Silva was unconscious. They hadn't done anything. And yet I could still feel his breath on my skin, his lips on my neck, his eyes trawling across my body.

'This why you're so friendly with Sam?' Steve asked, not in a patronizing or intrusive way but in a genuinely curious way. I nodded. 'Your worst mission?' I nodded again.

'We were captured by a group of militant rebels on a humanitarian mission in Sudan. Kept us prisoner there for months before a few of us managed to escape. They - ' The words struggled out of my mouth. 'They didn't care where they touched me.'

The words lay in the air, harsh and crass and brutally honest. I wiped the tears from my face, wincing as I moved my ankle slightly. Steve didn't say anything, but I noticed his jaw tightening. I was glad of that.

'Thanks for coming.' I said slowly.

'Not quickly enough, apparently.' Steve said, slightly aggressively. I shot him a look. He didn't need to be angry for me. It wasn't his fault.

'We need to get you checked out. You might have broken some bones.' He held his hand out to me to help me up. I shook my head, unsteadily climbing to my feet and wincing as I put weight in my ankle.

'I don't want you to touch me.' His brows furrowed. 'I can walk to medical, I'm fine.' His brows furrowed again. 'I'll shuffle then.'

'You'll make it worse if you walk down to medical. I don't want you making it worse.' Steve said simply and I rolled my eyes. He was right but I couldn't bare the thought of touching someone else's skin right now.

'How about I carry you?' I shook my head. This might have been my dream an hour ago but not right now. He sighed. 'You're hurt...'

'What about giving me a piggy-back?' I asked, the notion suddenly popping into my head. It was ridiculously childish. But I knew that I didn't have to hide this part of myself from Steve. He shrugged, smiling.

'Sure, whatever you're comfortable with.' He crouched down and, with some effort, I maneuvered myself onto his shoulders. My ankle immediately felt lighter. I took another deep breath, trying to ignore the way Steve lightly grasped my kneecaps to stop me from sliding off his shoulders.

'Is this what the world looks like from your height?' I said quietly as Steve exited the corridor. I heard him chuckle under his breath. I hadn't heard anybody laugh in a while. 'There's a whole other world that I never knew about up here.'

\- FINAL CHAPTER ALERT GUYS! That was pretty intense and telling for Rae's character but I hope you liked it!


	73. Setenta Y Dos

Less than an hour later, the problem seemed to have dissolved. Every rebel solider on site had been found and rounded up, before being placed in the cells while the Security Council tried to come to a conclusion on how to proceed.

Every inch of the compound had been scanned, every logistic checked and doorway secured. A high-tech computer program hiding deep in SHIELD's software and had been carefully removed by someone in IT. There were going to be no more incidents now.

Silva, Martin and Carlos looked to have planted the software when they first entered the recruit program over a month ago and since then, it had been slowly chipping away at the SHIELD firewalls, able to sneak in undetected and decrease our defences.

They'd been crippling our defences for the last few weeks in the hope that when they launched their attack, we wouldn't have the facilities available to defend ourselves. And it had almost worked.

The flickering lights and malfunctioning electrics had been the only notable effects of their tampering, side-effects to the firewalls slowly being decrypted.

25 agents had died in total. I was surprised that this number wasn't higher considering all the gunshots that I'd heard and the rage that had been fuelling the soldiers.

I could have lowered that number. If I'd been quicker, I could have helped the nurses who had been killed. I could have fought the soldiers off or bandaged their wounds. If I had been quicker then more innocent lives could have been saved.

In all the joy, I couldn't allow myself to feel happy. Some of the deaths could have been prevented.

On the upside, I had managed to find Trish and she was mercifully unhurt. As soon as she'd heard the first gunshot she'd quickly helped to evacuate the med-bay and had got herself out of the firing line.

At least that was something I could be cheerful about.

I had taken a while for normal activity to resume within SHIELD and so had taken me a while to have my 'injuries' looked at. In reality, I only needed some ice for my ankle, a tissue to mop up the blood from my split lip that I hadn't noticed I'd received and a handful of stitches for the wound in my forehead.

There was nothing medical could do for my bruises or aching muscles. Nothing that a long bath and a couple of days wouldn't fix.

My nerves, on the other hand, would take a while longer than that. But I'd managed to patch myself back together before and I knew that with Trish, the rest of the gang, my family and Sam's support, that I'd be fine.

Natasha had managed to locate Fury and he had managed to escape unscathed after being locked into his office. The only fire he was now under was from the Security Council but I knew that if anybody could handle their wrath then it was Fury.

Tony had managed to crawl away from the danger until Steve had found him and, like I'd first thought, aside from his multiple flesh wounds, he'd also broken a handful of ribs but would be fine in a couple of weeks.

Sam would also be fine, though would have to spend a while longer confined to a wheelchair since he'd broken his tibia and pelvis in a particularly energetic meeting with a handful of soldiers.

Trish stayed with me while the nurse stitched up the wound in my head. Having stitches certainly wasn't any fun and while I'd had them a couple of times before didn't make it any more enjoyable. I'd dealt with worse and yet I still almost recoiled when the metal touched my skin.

I was ready to go home when the nurse was just finishing patching me up. I'd had practically no sleep and it was now nearing 6 in the morning. The adrenaline and panic had worn off to leave me utterly exhausted. I wanted to recover in the privacy of my own bed and shed a few tears where nobody could see me.

Someone knocked on the doorframe of the room that I'd been given so softly that I wouldn't have even noticed it if Trish hadn't squeezed my hand and gestured towards the door.

It was Steve, casually leaning against it with his arms folded in a way that reminded me of the times that he'd visited me on my surveillance shift. I didn't know if I'd have to do it anymore; the threat of imminent attack was now neutralized.

I no longer had an excuse to randomly speak to him.

'Hey.' He said, speaking softly and stepping forwards into the room. His blue shirt was creased in a way that told me it probably hadn't seen an iron in a while. His gym shirt. It looked so soft right now. I wanted to curl my face into it.

'Hey.' I responded, suddenly realizing how dishevelled I looked but not really caring. My hair was practically hanging loose, the hair tie lost in the depths of my hair. My face was red and blotchy from where I'd been crying. I could feel Trish's eyes on me.

'Do you want me to give you guys some privacy? So you can chat?' I suddenly yawned half way through her words and she rolled her eyes at me, a good-natured smile on her face. I shrugged, matching her smile. God, I loved her.

'I'll take that as a yes.' She murmured, patting me lightly on the shoulder before heading for the door. She winked at me before I lost sight of her among the bevy of agents stalking the corridors.

I know what that wink meant. That wink meant Trish knew the crush that I had developed, the crush that seemed to grow stronger with every single second that passed. The crush that I hadn't actually voiced to anybody. The crush that Trish had been able to read in my body language and my glances because that was how well she knew me.

'You need to be more careful, Regan.' Steve said, sighing and I raised an eyebrow. I certainly hadn't expected him to say that.

'I'm sorry, I forgot I was supposed to let Tony die.' I shot back, rolling my eyes.

'You could’ve seriously gotten hurt or worse.' Steve said, his voice getting angrier. 'What would I do then, huh?'

I didn't speak for a moment. I couldn't fully take in what he was saying. He was being awfully protective of me. If my head wasn't pounding, I would have bitten his head off. He sighed again, taking in my blank expression and my silence.

'You should have waited for backup.' He breathed wistfully, the anger disappearing from his voice, as though he was imagining what would have happened if he had been just a bit quicker.

'If I waited, then Tony might have died. Then there'd be 26 bodies. And besides, I didn't know how long you'd be.' This sounded like I wad directly attacking Steve, as though I blamed him for what happened. 'I didn't mean it like that.' I quickly added.

Steve nodded at this, before crossing the room to sit down next to me on the bed. I didn't understand why I'd been given a room. I only needed some ice and stitches.

Why was Steve sitting next to me? Why was he even here? Why wasn't he being debriefed by Fury or Hill? Was I rambling. I thought I was rambling. I must be more delirious than I thought I was...

'The Security Council are still debating how to proceed with the soldiers.' Steve said, his voice dragging me out of my delusions. 'All of them were captured alive so we're hoping we'll be able to get some useful intel out of them.'

I nodded. I'd deliberately not shot to kill. Not that I could have killed Silva, Martin or Carlos anyway.

'They all had genuine reasons for doing what they did.' I said slowly, hating my diplomatic mind for a moment and the way that I could always see the different sides of a situation. 'They'd all lost their families. If my family died then I'd probably want to kill Iron Man too.'

'I have the urge to kill Tony regardless.' Steve chuckled and I smirked, suddenly aware of how close Steve was sitting next to me. My arm was brushing against his. I could hear him breathing. I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

Stop it Rae. Get a grip. This was neither the time nor the place.

I was delirious.

But now that the problem within SHIELD had been solved, did that mean I could possibly do something with the crush that I'd formed. I'd read the rules and regulations enough times to know that agents could enter relationships with each other.

What was my excuse now?

It was Steve. He was hot and funny and -

'I'm just glad that you're okay.' Steve said gently, catching my eye and I could feel a warmth spreading through my chest and something fluttering in my stomach. 'I - I mean we - can't lose you. We wouldn't be able to cope if we did.'

I locked onto the stumbling of his words. He'd said I then hastily changed it to we. What did that mean? An honest mistake? Or something -

'How is everyone?' I quickly turned towards the door to see Barton. He looked virtually unharmed, apart from the way he was avoiding putting any weight on his left foot. He was smirking slightly and I noticed his eyes flickering between myself and Steve. I rolled my eyes.

'Fine.' Steve answered.

'How's Sam?' I asked.

'A bit rough.' He admitted, running a hand through his hair. 'Got a lot of bruises - '

'We match then.' I joked, gesturing to the black and purple blotches that covered my face and neck. Barton rolled his eyes.

'And he's not going to be able to walk for quite a while. But he'll live.' I couldn't contain my relief. I knew that Sam wouldn't be happy about being confined to a wheelchair though. 'How are you?'

'I'm fine.'

'Really?'

'Yes!' I said, exasperatedly. I was. Or I would be, anyway. 'You're all acting like I've never fought anybody before. Have you met me? That's basically my entire personality. I'm small and angry and violent.'

'No, it's not.' I heard Steve murmur next to me before my attention focused on the figure entering the room. Trish.

'Please say that's a cocktail.' I asked, gesturing to the cup that she was carrying. Trish rolled her eyes, passing the drink to me and I let the warmth of the liquid soak through my hands.

'No, it's coffee.' I clicked my tongue and glared at her, before taking a sip. The caffeine was probably going to keep me up until lunch now but at least I wouldn't fall asleep on Steve's shoulder.

Not that that would be a bad thing but...

'I'm glad you're okay.' I said honestly, meeting Trish's gaze, feeling suddenly sentimental. I heard a voice shout Steve from the corridor, I thought it was Barton, and he slipped out of the room. I felt a pang of something that I couldn't explain. Trish took his place next to me.

Her skin wasn't as warm as Steve's. And she smelled different. And -

'Why wouldn't I be okay?' Trish asked, her brows furrowing slightly.

'Silva said something about you.' I admitted slowly, looking away from her. Trish took my hand and squeezed it.

'What did he say?'

'It doesn't matter.' I was trying to forget that our whole encounter ever happened. 'You're safe, that's what is important.'

'Rae - '

'It's fine.' I looked towards the doorway where a shadow passed across the room. Steve was back. I didn't know why I didn't want to talk about it with Trish. Maybe I would at a later date but right now I was trying to push everything to do with the maintenance corridor from my mind.

'Tony's awake.' Steve announced. Good. 'But he's being a prick and the nurses say he can't have any visitors yet.'

'I bet he likes that.'

'Yeah.' Steve chuckled. 'He did say to thank you, though. And to apologise, which is more than I've ever got.' I opened my mouth to speak but then shut it again. I'd always known that he wasn't a dick, deep down. And the only reason that we'd fought so much because we were so similar: both headstrong and proud and determined not to be proved wrong.

I nodded. 'Tell him thank you.'

'I'm gonna get you some food.' Trish said.

'Proper food, not just sludge please.' I nodded and she grinned, leaving the room. Steve still lingered by the doorframe as I pulled the tie from my hair and ran my fingers through it. I tried to avoid his gaze and I gulped down some more coffee, the strong taste masking the emptiness inside my mouth.

'So...I was wondering - ' I looked up. Steve looked strangely flustered, his hands flexing. Outside the window, I caught sight of Natasha and Barton lingering in the corridor, looking strangely tentative about something. 'If you had any plans at the weekend?'

After pacing a little, Steve came to sit next to me. His words were flying around my head. Plans? Why was he asking me this?

'The gang is coming round on Sunday night, I think.' I said quickly, not wanting Steve to know that I'd been staring at the side of his face. 'And I'm walking the dogs, obviously, but aside from that I don't think - '

'HE WANTS TO ASK YOU OUT!' My head whipped to the corridor where I could see a head floating above the window, grinning like a maniac. It was Sam in his wheelchair. His face looked distinctly purple.

I blushed instantly, noticing how Natasha and Barton were now staring at me too. I didn't realize Steve had been talking until he quickly crossed the room and pulled the blind down. I chuckled under my breath, attempting to cover my nerves.

My heart was beating faster than it ever had. Ask me out? He actually wanted to? What?

I had to ask. I hated regrets. If I'd learned anything recently it was to be true to myself. 'Really?' I said quietly, so quietly that I didn't know if Steve had even heard me. He was blushing as furiously as I was and was looking quite angry. His face instantly softened at my words and he nodded.

'Yeah. I mean, if that's okay. If you don't want to it's fine, I get it and - '

'No! I mean, I  - ' I couldn't think straight. This was actually happening. Actually happening. It wasn't a dream or anything else. It was real.

'So, do you want to go on a date? With me?' He was looking so hopeful, his eyes sparkling and a small smile playing on his lips that I couldn't help but melt.

'Yes, I would.' I breathed, the words not sounding real. I heard a chorus of cheers and groans of disappointment from out in the corridor, recognizing Natasha, Barton, Sam and Trish's voices. I rolled my eyes.

'Who's won this bet then?' I called, Trish opening the door leading to my room with a massive grin on her face, clutching an apple. I looked at her intently. 'You bet on me? You said that - That's not - '

'I'm leaving you two lovebirds. And I want my $30 from Vision.' Trish chuckled, handing me the apple.

'YOU CAN'T RUN AWAY FROM THIS!' I shouted after her, trying to organize my thoughts into something that made sense. I couldn't speak. Everything was too much to comprehend.

Trish had bet on my relationship with Steve. I was going on a date with Steve. Steve didn't hate me. Steve...

'I'll pick you up at 7? On Saturday?' I just nodded, feeling as though someone was squeezing the oxygen out of my brain. Steve's eyes seemed to narrow. 'Rae? Are you...alright?'

'Just peachy.' I breathed, blushing slightly and taking in the fact that he'd just called me Rae. 'I can't believe I'm actually going on a date with you.'

'Why?' Steve asked and my mouth nearly dropped open.

'Why? Have you not seen yourself? Do you even read the news?' There was no way that he wasn't aware of how handsome he was and how the whole of America was madly in love with him. 

Steve chuckled, slowly reaching for my hand. Warmth instantly flooded my body as I intertwined my fingers with his. I felt light-headed. I couldn't believe that I was actually sat next to Captain America, Steve Rogers, and he was holding my hand and asking me out on a date and -

'You're pretty cool too.' He said, blushing a furious shade of red and I giggled. Why had I giggled? I never giggled. But it wasn't everyday that Steve Rogers said that you were cool.

'I'm going to get a tattoo of that.' I joked, watching Steve's eyes dart across my face from my eyes to my lips and I sucked in a breath.

I had never been as close to him as I was right now. I could count his freckles if I wanted to. Or run my hands through his golden blonde hair.

I hadn't noticed that he'd moved closer until I could feel his breath on my face. Nothing else mattered. I blocked out the beeping of the machinery in the room, the chatter from the corridor, the aching of my ribs.

Nothing else mattered as his eyes flickered up to mine, as though asking for permission as his hand squeezed mine. I wasn't one to pull punches or wimp out of things.

I leaned forwards, catching his lips in my own as my hands moved up to his shoulders. He didn't taste like apple pie as all the tabloids had told me, but of something that was distinctly Steve. My whole body felt like it was being overcome with warmth and electricity as his hands moved up to cup my face.

When we broke away, I realized that I was gasping. One of his hands was cupping my face, the other curling gently in my hair. I was speechless.

For the first time in my life, I was speechless.

That was one thing I could say I had learned at SHIELD - how to be completely overwhelmed so that I lost the ability to speak.

'Yeah, you're pretty cool.' Steve murmured again, stroking my hair softly as I stared at him.

We'd gone from being strangers, to colleagues, to friends, to enemies, to friends and now I wasn't even sure what we were. We were standing on the threshold of something new and exciting and something that filled me with dread.

What if I mucked everything up? What if -

I seized every opportunity that I was given. That was the way I worked. That was what had got me into the UN and now into SHIELD. I was going to take this and run with it. I was going to give it everything I had because I wanted it.

I wasn't going to be afraid. I wasn't going to let my memories of the past declare how I behaved. I was going to give this everything I had.

'So are you.'


	74. The End

So, that's the end folks! I can't believe that I've finally reached the end of what is a pretty mammoth story. I've enjoyed every minute of it and I want to thank each and every one of you for giving up your time and reading it!

I'm currently very conflicted as to whether give this story a second part or not. Would you read another story featuring Rae and Steve? What kind of thing would you like to see in that story? Would it take place straight after the ending of this one? Or would it be a couple of months down the line? Let me know in the comments and I'll think a bit more about where I think I can take this characters.

If you want more of my work, then currently have a Criminal Minds story on the go, which is the second part in my series. You can check the first, completed, part out here and the second part here. You can also keep an eye out for a new story that I will be publishing next year set in the Now You See Me film universe, following my own set of characters as well as the Four Horsemen.

And, because I get so invested in these characters, I've made a character aesthetic for Regan and a general story aesthetic which you can check out on my Pinterest. (https://www.pinterest.co.uk/abi_cxx/story-aesthetics/). If there's any other characters that you'd like me to do then let me know because I'm definitely going to be doing more over the next few weeks.

Again, thank you so much for reading this. I am a massive Marvel fanatic so I can promise you that this is definitely not the last Marvel story that I'm going to write!

\- Abicxx


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